Our Great Divide
by Mar Komi
Summary: Zelenka falls ill with a strange disease after an off-world mission. Rodney thinks he can save him, but he might just have to risk it all. Team fic. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Don't own them. Wish I did.

The song "Our Great Divide" is orginally performed by Finnish singer Tarja Turunen, and written by Anders Wollbeck/Hanne Sorvaag/Mattias Lindblom/Tarja Turunen.

**Characters: **Team fic, but emphasis on McKay.

**A/N: **This story is set somewhere in the latter half of fifth season, after "The Lost Tribe", but before "Brain Storm". General spoilers.

English is not my native tongue, so please forgive me if the language isn't flawless.

* * *

**Our Great Divide**

**Part 1**

"Remind me again, why am I doing this?" Major Evan Lorne shouted across the Gateroom to John Sheppard who was coming down the stairs towards him.

One corner of the colonel's mouth twisted upwards in a teasing smile as he approached the major. "I take it the mission was a real thrill, just as we expected?" he joked.

"It's on days like this I wonder what the hell I'm doing here," Lorne said, and looked back over his shoulder as the last of his team entered through the event horizon behind him. "I was completely useless on that planet. The only thing there to protect the science team from was some rather annoying mosquito thingies. And from those there was no escape anyway." With impatient and frustrated moves, he scratched some flaming red spots on his neck.

As the Gate closed, Ronon and Teyla entered the room from one of the corridors to the right, just in time to hear the major's last comment. "You should not complain," Teyla said earnestly. "We should be thankful whenever a mission turns out to be… eventless."

"If we had found anything of interest perhaps," Lorne said with a sigh, and continued to scratch the red spots with increasing intensity. "But that place was just a complete waste of time. There was nothing there."

Behind them the science team and Lorne's marines began to unload their supplies from the MALP. Dr. Radek Zelenka came up beside the major. He too was covered with tiny red bug marks, especially on the neck and around the wrists. John looked at him and then at Lorne as he lifted one eyebrow in a teasing gesture. "Except for the mosquitoes?"

"Except those," Lorne sighed.

"And a rather interesting bird life," Zelenka added. One could always rely on the Czech to find the silver lining.

From his position on the top of the stairs, Dr. Rodney McKay snorted and rolled his eyes. Zelenka had this thing for birds he had never really been able to grasp. He heard hurried steps behind him and turned to see Richard Woolsey coming from his office. "Report, Major!" he said as he passed by Rodney and descended the stairs. Mr. Woolsey was not a man of patience.

"Nothing, sir," Lorne said. "The scientists have brought back samples of the soil and various plants, but as far as I can see the planet was no different from all the other countless worlds we have investigated lately. They are all starting to look the same." Woolsey gave him a stern look and he quickly added, "Not that I'm complaining, sir."

"Well, you're all here and as far as I can tell, you're all in one piece," the expedition leader said. "That is the important thing." He let his eyes drift across the group of newly arrived off-world team members. "I'll expect the full report from each of you on my desk later." It was of course a completely unnecessary order to give. Everyone knew the established routines. But they just nodded affirmatively, and Woolsey disappeared back up the stairs and into his office again.

"You should go to the infirmary and have those checked," Teyla said and nodded towards the red spots on Lorne and Zelenka's necks. In fact the whole off-world team was sporting the same kind of bug bites, and most of them were frantically scratching themselves.

"That won't be necessary." Rodney finally chose to make himself conspicuous. His hands behind his back, he casually strolled down the stairs. "They will itch for a day or two, but they are by no means dangerous."

"How'd you know?" Lorne asked.

"It said so in the database," Rodney answered with a conceited look upon his face. "The Ancients have provided us with at least a little information about this planet, including a quite detailed description of the _habbatalus, _as they call it. And its bites."

Lorne scowled as the realization hit him. "You knew this. I bet you also knew that there would be nothing of interest for us to find."

"Of course he did," Zelenka said, sending a glare in Rodney's direction. "Why else do you think _we _were assigned this mission?"

Rodney lifted his hands in a defensive manner. "Hey, hey, this is what you signed up for, remember? Exploration. It's what we do. Can't find something every day."

"Yeah, as the boss just said, be thankful you're not hurt… or dead," Sheppard said, sending a silent thank you to McKay for making sure that _their _team had stayed behind in the comforts of Atlantis. Those so-called _habba-_something did not sound pleasant. "And besides, Radek, you just said you found an interesting bunch of birds, right? So I guess it wasn't a _complete _waste."

Radek mumbled something in his native tongue – swearing, John guessed – and turned around to pick up his gear.

"Yeah, and about that, Doc," Lorne said as he turned towards the Czech, "next time you feel like trotting off to investigate some nest, I'd appreciate it if you let me know first."

"I didn't go far," Radek defended himself. "And like you said, there was nothing dangerous there I needed you to protect me from."

"That's not the point," Evan said, but seemed to realize that Zelenka wasn't going to listen to his views on the matter, so he just shook his head and looked at John. "I'm going to the infirmary nonetheless. At least they might have a salve or something to relieve this damn itch."

"You do that," John said with another teasing smile.

Zelenka looked up for a moment. "Ooh, that sounds good. I'll go with you."

"Don't be long," Rodney said. "I need you in the jumper bay."

Zelenka's head jerked upwards so fast that his glasses almost fell off his nose. "What?"

"As you know, Mr. Woolsey has been bugging me ever since he came here to convert one of the jumpers so that people _without_ the Ancient gene can fly it as well."

"Yes?"

"Well, now I'm on to something and I need your… assistance." Rodney lifted his eyebrows and gave a smug smile. He looked very pleased with himself. Without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heels and started to walk towards the stairs. "Jumper bay in fifteen minutes."

"But I just got back!"

Rodney stopped and partly turned his head towards the Czech for a moment. "Hm, well, yeah, you can take a shower first." And then he quickly went up the stairs and out of sight.

Radek looked like he wanted to shout something after him, but then he just closed his mouth, rolled his eyes and let out one of his trademark sighs, before he picked up his boxes and followed Lorne out of the Gateroom.

The others watched them as they turned a corner and disappeared out of sight. Ronon clicked his tongue. "I don't know how he puts up with it. I would have shot him by now."

Sheppard grinned and looked at Teyla. She smiled sympathetically and shook her head.

Of course Rodney had known that spending a day on M9H-541 would be just as interesting as spending a day watching wall paint dry. That was why he had talked Woolsey into sending the 'b-team' to explore the planet in the first place. It hadn't been easy. Just like Elizabeth Weir before him, Woolsey didn't always swallow the bait. Sam Carter had been in the palm of his hand, Rodney thought as he made his way to the jumper bay. As long as he had let her believe that _she_ was the one in charge, she had always gone with whatever Rodney decided. But Woolsey apparently had the same strange faith in Zelenka that Elizabeth had had, and he had a way of giving the Czech's advice just as much weight as Rodney's. It was quite annoying at times.

Still, Rodney thought as he entered the jumper bay, he had gotten his way this time. In the end it _had _been Lorne's team that had been sent to M9H to spend a day in boredom and misery along with the _habbatalus. _Rodney chuckled at the thought.

He opened the hatch in the rear of his experimental jumper and as he stepped inside, he stopped for a moment to take in the sight. The interior was strewn with laptops and cables and loose conduits hanging from the ceiling. Now, if he only could get this thing to work…

Woolsey hadn't been in charge of the city for more than a week or so before he had approached Rodney with this request. Only people possessing the Ancient gene could pilot the Puddle Jumpers, and in Woolsey's world that was a problem, a problem he wanted Rodney to solve. Rodney had first tried to explain that converting the jumpers had proved impossible in the past, but when he'd thought about it, who was he to turn down a challenge like that? So over the last months he had dived into the task whenever he had the chance, but ever so often he had to spend his time doing other things, like saving the city from various forms of peril, so he hadn't made much progress.

That was, not until these last few days. Now he was definitely on to something, he thought with anticipation as he waited for Zelenka to show up. Just a few more minor adjustments now, and that's where Radek entered the picture. It had proven difficult to translate his brilliant theories into practice, and although Rodney had a hard time admitting it – so hard that the mere thought actually made him shiver – he knew that Zelenka probably had an even bigger understanding of how the Puddle Jumpers worked than he had. Not that he was ever going to tell him that.

Zelenka joined him half an hour later. He came from the infirmary where they had indeed conjured up a salve that worked like magic on the _habbatalus _rashes. That and a warm shower had done wonders with his mood, and even though he gave McKay a sour look when he first entered the jumper, Rodney knew that it was just a matter of time before the Czech would be enjoying himself. Zelenka loved work just as much as _he _did.

They didn't talk much while they were working, both men concentrating on their own task. This was the way they normally did things. No small talk, no unnecessary exchange of words. A few 'hmms' and 'ah-has' and snapping of fingers was all Rodney needed to get Radek's attention when he wanted it, and further explanation of what those 'hmms' and 'ah-has' was supposed to mean was rarely needed. In that sense Zelenka was a mind reader, and Rodney liked it. Yes, working with Zelenka could be quite comfortable at times. Not that he was going to tell him that either.

* * *

They worked tirelessly for two days, only taking breaks to get food and catch a few hours of sleep at night. Converting the jumper proved a lot more difficult than Rodney had anticipated. His equations and schematics looked good on paper, but the changes they made to the system had no effect in real life. The experimental jumper remained as before – completely dead to Radek and the likes of him, that being people without the Ancient gene. Well, truth be told, it didn't remain _quite _as before. By the third day it was actually dead to _everyone._

In perfect sync as always, Rodney and Radek both sat back on their heels at the same time. "It's no good," Rodney said. "They can't be converted."

Radek nodded. "Not without the engines and power outputs being reconstructed from scratch."

"And if we knew how to build Puddle Jumpers we wouldn't have this problem in the first place," Rodney finished the sentence.

Frustrated and irritated and hating to be wrong, he stood up and glared at the jumper's dead panel. Behind him, Radek sat down on one of the boxes with his elbows on his knees and rested his forehead in the palms of his hands. Rodney heard him sigh and turned to look at him. "You look terrible," he said after studying him for a few moments.

Radek looked up. "Like I have been working for two days straight with hardly any rest perhaps?" Rodney didn't reply and Radek brushed his hair back and shivered slightly. "Probably a cold coming. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," Rodney said curtly. He picked up his tablet computer and looked at it with an annoyed glare. "Woolsey will be expecting a full briefing of our progress later today. And we have _nothing_."

"That's not true," Radek said, not unkindly. "You've made great progress. Only because this problem seems to be unsolvable at the present time, doesn't mean that it actually is. We just need to put it aside for some time and have a fresh look at it later."

"Yeah, there _are _more important things we should be concentrating on…" Rodney tapped at the tablet. "But we still have to tell him, that _on top_ of the fact that we don't have any idea how to make the jumpers accessible to everyone, we also _killed_ one of them. He won't be pleased."

"We'll fix it," Radek said. "It's only a small matter of reestablishing the original parameters. I'll have a look at it later." He rose and began walking towards the exit at the rear.

"Whoa, where _you _headed?" Rodney said.

"I thought I might catch some sleep."

"Oh no, you have to help me with the presentation."

Radek sighed. "Why?"

"Well, you did the brush up on some of these equations," Rodney said in a matter-of-factly tone, perfectly avoiding looking Radek directly in the eyes. "It's only fair that I let you share in our 'triumph' alongside me."

"You mean like having the honor of changing the screen pictures while you do all the talking?"

"Precisely."

Radek let out another sigh, but after five years of working with McKay he knew how to pick his battles, so he just sat back down on the box and opened his laptop. "Right."

* * *

Colonel Sheppard and his team, as well as several other senior expedition members, joined the briefing in Woolsey's conference room later that day. John only needed a quick look at Rodney to see that the Canadian was trying hard to look more confident than he really was, and the others didn't need much time to come to the same conclusion. It was soon clear to everyone in the room that most of the things Rodney said while he pointed to the screen was unimportant nonsense, and that he was just making a rather feeble attempt to cover up the truth. The truth being that he was nowhere near a solution to the problem Woolsey had provided him with. It was also clear that Rodney was very well aware of the fact that his little performance wasn't fooling anyone, and _that_ seemed to cost him even further annoyance. John had to cover up a smile. Watching Rodney try to pull up the ladder was always fun.

The only one in the room who seemed to take McKay seriously at this point was Richard Woolsey. He was leaning forward in his chair with his elbows resting on the conference table and his hands folded, looking sincerely interested in what his chief scientist had to say. "So, you are saying that there's absolutely no way to bypass the safety protocol?" he asked.

Rodney's face contracted in a frown for a few seconds, before he looked matter-of-factly back at the expedition leader. "Well, if we could construct a…"

"No," came a tired voice from beside him. Everyone shifted their eyes to Radek Zelenka who was slumping in his chair, tiredly rubbing his fingers against his forehead. "He means no. We cannot."

Rodney shot him a sour look, but then looked back at Woolsey. "Not as of now, no."

Woolsey frowned. "You seemed a lot more optimistic a few days ago."

"Yes," Rodney said, trying without much success to hide the displeasure in his voice. "But as you can see here on this next schematics…" He gestured towards the view screen, but nothing happened, and he turned impatiently towards Zelenka. "Radek." And when the Czech still didn't respond, he raised his voice: "Radek!"

Zelenka jumped in his seat and hurriedly pushed the button on the remote control. "Sorry."

The picture on the view screen changed, and Rodney droned on. But John wasn't paying attention anymore. He kept his gaze on Zelenka. The smaller man didn't look good. He was pale, his face appeared drawn and he was constantly rubbing his eyes behind his glasses. _Maybe another migraine coming, _John thought. The Czech had probably not been sleeping much since returning from his off-world mission three days earlier. No wonder he looked beaten. _Yeah, that's probably it. He's just tired. I'll make sure he gets some rest when this is done. _He stifled a yawn of his own. If only Rodney could admit defeat and get this pointless speech over with.

McKay was once again calling for Radek's attention. With an impatient look, he watched the Czech shuffle to his feet to pass him the tablet he'd asked for. "Thank you," he barked sarcastically as he snatched the tablet from his colleague's hand, and the next second he watched in surprise as Radek fell to the floor.

Zelenka just tilted. He knocked over a coffee cart as he fell, and a tray and six empty mugs went crashing to the floor with him. John was on his feet in a nanosecond, but Ronon was closer and even faster. He lunged forward and caught the Czech just in time to prevent his head from hitting the floor.

The room fell dead quiet for a moment, then everybody got to their feet to have a closer look. Ronon turned Radek around and cradled him in his arms, and as John stepped up beside them the Satedan looked up at him. "He's burning."

John tapped his earpiece. "Medical team to the conference room."

"It'll be faster to just bring him there," Ronon said. He scooped Zelenka up into his arms and staggered to his feet. Radek didn't even make a sound as he was carried out of the room.

John looked at McKay. The Canadian stood in the exact same position as he had before, still looking shocked and confused. His eyes were glued to the door Ronon had just disappeared through and for several moments he didn't move. Then he seemed to realize that everyone was looking at him and he pulled his eyes away from the door and let them drift across the room until they finally came to a rest at John. "I didn't…"

John just shook his head and left the room to follow Ronon. Behind him he heard Woolsey clear his throat. "Weren't you about to show us something, Doctor?"

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Part 2**

John and Ronon were standing at the far end of the infirmary watching Dr. Jennifer Keller examine Zelenka. The scientist was sitting up in bed, looking rather peaked and weary, while the doctor held a stethoscope to his back and listened with a concentrated frown on her face. "Exhale," she instructed him and he obeyed, sending little glances towards John and Ronon, seemingly ashamed of his current predicament.

"How on Earth did you manage to do this to yourself, Radek?" Keller said as she pulled the stethoscope from her ears and hung it around her neck, but she was apparently not expecting an answer. She just helped him settle back on his pillow and gave him a stern look. "You know, listening to the signs of your body now and then won't kill you. The opposite could."

"Sorry…"

He sounded so tiny and miserable that she had to smile and give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Your lungs sound clear, so at least there's no pneumonia," she said. "But you need to rest." She emphasized the word 'rest' and gave him another look that dared him to disagree with her.

"There's just been a lot of work lately," he began, but was cut short.

"I don't want to hear excuses. Leave the work to others now. Okay?"

He sighed, but nodded.

"Good," Keller said. "Get some sleep."

"Sleep?" Radek repeated with a frown, as if the word made no sense to him. "Ah, yes, sleep. Sleep sounds good." And then he closed his eyes and drifted off almost instantly.

Keller shook her head in disbelief and made some notes on a tablet before she handed it over to a nurse. She then joined John and Ronon in the other room. "He has a high fever," she said before any of them had a chance to ask. "I haven't analyzed the blood sample yet, but I'd say it's probably some sort of the flu. Worsened by the fact that he has exhausted himself." Her voice as she added that last comment, was laden with such disapproval that it made John wonder if she held _him _responsible for this whole ordeal.

"But he'll be fine, right?" Ronon asked, throwing a worried look in Zelenka's direction.

Keller smiled. She apparently knew, like everyone else, that the Satedan had a soft spot for the little Czech. "Yes, don't worry. He just needs rest. And I intend to keep him here for at least the next few days to make sure he gets it."

Ronon nodded. "_I'll_ make sure McKay stays away," he said in full earnestness.

Jennifer chuckled. "That wouldn't hurt," she said, nodded her goodbyes and went back into the infirmary.

* * *

"I didn't know he was sick! He didn't say anything."

"Rodney, no one's blaming you," Teyla said calmly.

"Not out _loud_," Rodney said, as he kept his eyes on a pair of scientists who walked by their table in the mess hall, fairly certain that he'd seen them looking angrily at him as they did so. "Have you _seen _the looks I'm getting?"

"Figure they think you pushed him too far," Ronon said and met Rodney's gaze with a challenging look in his eyes.

Rodney shifted nervously in his chair, but kept his face stern. "What's that supposed to mean? It's not like I deny him food and rest." When none of the others said anything to back him up, he added, "He's not my responsibility!"

"No, he's not," John agreed. "But he does have a tendency of over-working himself and you're not exactly setting an example."

"And you _are_?" Rodney barked.

John took another bite of his sandwich. "Relax. Dr. Keller says he'll be fine. Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried," Rodney muttered and shifted his concentration to the food on his plate.

The image of Radek as he tumbled to the floor once again popped up in his head and he frowned. _Nothing to worry about, _he repeated silently to himself. _Jennifer says he'll be fine. Of course he'll be fine. _Then he thought about Radek in the jumper earlier that day. How terrible he had looked. What he'd said about a cold coming. _A cold. Yes. And exhaustion. Nothing to worry about. _And then he recalled how he'd made the Czech stay for the report, and the frown grew deeper.

"So what did Woolsey say about the jumpers?" John asked and jerked him away from his thoughts.

Rodney sighed. He was happy to hear the topic of the conversation change, but he really wished Sheppard had come up with something else. "He agreed it would be best to put that project aside for the time being," he said.

"Too bad," John said and looked at Ronon and Teyla. "I truly wished for the two of you to feel what it's like to pilot those things."

Teyla smiled. "We'll get by."

"It's not that I'm giving up," Rodney said. "It's just that we have other, more important things to do right now and…"

"We get it, you couldn't do it," Ronon cut in. "That's fine."

Rodney opened his mouth to give the Satedan a piece of his mind, but closed it again. He wasn't in the mood. He'd worked his ass off on those jumpers and all that work had been for nothing, and now Radek – damn him – was sick and lying in the infirmary, and there was a pile of boring paper work waiting that Rodney now had to do on his own, and – he recalled as he looked down on his plate again – it was fish-fingers day. And on days like that it _really_ sucked being Rodney McKay!

He put down his fork and stood up in one quick motion. The others looked at him. "Where are you going?" Teyla asked.

"This 'food' has cost me my appetite. I might as well go back to work."

"You're not offended by that jumper thing?" John said. "'Cause we all know you did your best."

"Please don't mention it," Rodney replied. "Not ever again. See you later." He turned and walked out of the mess hall. He was still hungry, but he had some doughnuts stashed away in his lab. They would do for now.

Entering the lab and retrieving one of said doughnuts from the box in his drawer, he flipped open his computer and allowed himself to get lost in his work.

* * *

Jennifer Keller had had a long day. But now it was almost eight o'clock in the evening and her shift was finally nearing an end. She rose from her desk, stretched her aching back and stifled a yawn before she exited her office to take the last round. There weren't many patients in the infirmary, only three to be exact. Situated closest to the office was Sgt. Keane who'd had surgery to his toe and in the next bed was Dr. van der Hagen with symptoms of throat inflammation. She stopped by each of them, exchanged a few words and took some notes; silently appreciating the luck they'd had these last few weeks. Life on Atlantis was seldom as quiet as this.

Dr. Zelenka was the last patient. He was lying quietly in the bed, half on his side and with his eyes partially closed. A tray of food brought there by a nurse an hour before still stood untouched on the nightstand. When she saw that he was awake, she smiled and leaned in closer. "Hey, how are you?" she asked.

His eyes shifted and met hers, and even though he didn't answer her question, he didn't have to. His appearances easily gave away how poorly he felt. He shivered slightly under the blanket and seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes open.

Jennifer gazed at the tray of food. "I see you haven't eaten."

"No," he whispered. "Not hungry."

He wasn't even speaking in full sentences, she realized. That wasn't good. Radek's English was normally excellent. "Are you in pain?" she asked.

"Headache," he answered and gave up the fight of keeping his eyes open.

"Yes, that and poor appetite are both common symptoms of the flu," she said in a comforting voice as she rested her hand on his forehead for a moment. She frowned at the heat and looked up at the head nurse who was standing close by. "Marie, what's his temperature?"

Marie glanced at the tablet in her hand. "39.56 Celsius," she said. "Measured thirty minutes ago."

Jennifer's frown grew deeper. "It's climbing."

The nurse nodded in agreement.

"Give him an antipyretic," Jennifer said. "With the fever down, he should feel better." She looked down at Radek who had opened his eyes and was peering back at her. "It should take away the edge of the headache too."

"Thank you," he whispered as he closed his eyes again.

"You're welcome." She gave him a little pat on his hand and checked the IV to make sure he was getting enough fluids, then watched as Marie administered the prescribed medicine. In the corner of her eye she saw Dr. McBride enter the room to relieve her, and she went over to give him her report.

Fifteen minutes later she was on her way, swinging by Main Lab for the person she knew she'd find there. Rodney was sitting in front of his computer with that well-known, deeply concentrated look on his face. "Hi," she said, and he glanced up at her before shifting his gaze back to the screen again.

"Jennifer, hi."

"I was on my way to the mess hall for a late night snack," she said. "Care to join me?"

At least he took the time to consider her offer. "No thanks," he said after a few moments. "I think I'm at a break-through point on this."

"Okay," she said. "Just don't sit up all night again."

He gave a little snort and then – still without looking up – asked, "How is Zelenka?"

She smiled as she heard how hard, and yet so unsuccessfully, he tried to keep the concern from his voice. "He's a bit under the weather right now, but he should be fine in a few days."

"Good," he said, still keeping his eyes glued to the screen.

"Make sure you get enough sleep, Rodney, or you'll end up in the bed next to him."

"Yeah, yeah," he said distantly and tapped at the keyboard.

"See you in the morning," she said, and he lifted his hand in some sort of waving motion as she left the room.

* * *

When Jennifer entered the infirmary at 0800 the next morning, she made a surprising find in her office. "Carson! I didn't know you were back."

"I arrived with the _Daedalus _just half an hour ago, dear," Carson Beckett returned her smile. "Slept like a babe the whole night, so I thought I'd come here to see if I were needed."

"As you can see it's still very quiet here," she said, and then added, "I wonder how long it'll last _this _time."

"Aye," he nodded. "We really should enjoy it while it lasts." He made a gesture towards the outer room. "I see Radek's not doing too good, though."

"No?" she said, suddenly feeling a spark of worry in her stomach. She saw Dr. McBride standing by the Czech's bed and she started walking towards him, Carson in tow.

McBride saw them coming and met them half way. "What's wrong?" Jennifer asked.

McBride sighed. "You tell me. His fever's been climbing all through the night and I can't seem to bring it down."

She frowned. "We gave him an antipyretic last night. It should have worked."

"I know. But it didn't do the trick, so I went on to the stronger stuff when his temperature rounded 40 degrees Celsius around three o'clock this morning." He shook his head as he handed her the tablet. "No effect whatsoever."

"Well, _that's_ not good," Jennifer said, and McBride nodded his head in agreement.

Jennifer glanced at the tablet and then looked mildly back up at her colleague. "Your shift just ended, Jim. Go get some sleep, I'll take it from here."

He nodded and went back to the office to collect his personal items. Jennifer looked at Carson. "Sounds like I could use a second opinion here," she said.

The Scot nodded and they both went over to Zelenka's bed. Radek's face looked gray and lifeless against the sheets. A sheen of sweat covered his features and the hair was soaked and plastered to his forehead. His breathing was shallow and rapid. Jennifer knelt down beside him and cupped her hand around his cheek and chin. "Radek?" she said softly.

He stirred and slowly rolled his head towards her. "Yes…"

"I see you're not doing well," she said and glanced up at Carson who looked at them with a worried frown.

"Head hurt…" Radek whispered.

Jennifer gave his right hand a light squeeze. "I'll see what I can do about that," she reassured him and caught the attention of the nurses. "Take another blood sample and check his vitals again. Do a rectal measurement of his temperature just in case."

The nurses immediately went to work and Jennifer stepped back and looked at Carson. "I was certain it was influenza," she said. "But this can't be it."

"It was a perfectly understandable interpretation of the symptoms described," Carson comforted. "Don't feel bad."

They waited while the nurses finished. Then Jennifer looked at the one taking the temperature. "What is it?"

The nurse looked worried. "41.47 Celsius."

"Bloody hell," Carson muttered and hurried towards the bed. "We need to cool him down right away."

"And we will," Jennifer said in a determined voice. "Even if we have to do it the old-fashioned way." She turned to the nurses. "Can I get some ice packs over here?"

Zelenka was soon stripped of his blanket and shirt and the nurses piled ice packs at the inside of his thighs and in the armpits. Jennifer wiped down his face with a damp rag. "Come on, Radek, cool down," she said.

Carson leaned in and examined the red rash around the Czech's neck. "Have you considered meningitis?" he asked Jennifer.

"Oh, those," she said as she realized why he was making that assumption. "Those are from some sort of mosquito Radek's team encountered at an off-world mission a few days ago. Rodney says they're harmless, and all the tests I ran on both Radek and the others came back clear."

Carson looked at her. "There could still be a connection."

"Absolutely," she agreed. "I'll have the rest of the team report for additional testing immediately." She looked to one of the nurses. "Will you see to it?" The nurse nodded and left.

Carson had used his hands to carefully move Radek's head from side to side and up from the pillows. "There doesn't appear to be any stiffness. I think we can rule out meningitis."

Radek suddenly opened his eyes and peered up at Carson who was still holding his head. Carson smiled. "Hello."

"Ca.. son?"

"Yes, right here."

"P..n."

"What?" Carson leaned in closer. "Pain? Are you in pain?"

The next second Radek's eyes rolled up in his head and his whole body stiffened as all the muscles suddenly contracted. "Radek!" Carson said loudly, and as the Czech started to shake uncontrollably on the bed, he shouted: "He's seizing!" Foamy vomit sputtered from Radek's mouth and Carson tilted his head to the side and used his fingers to clear the sick man's airways.

The room spun into commotion. "Medazepam, four milligrams!" Jennifer shouted and spotted that one of the nurses was ahead of her and already preparing the drug. _Good thinking, _she thought as she tried to remember the male nurse's name. _Andersson, _she recalled. _The Swede._

Nurse Andersson came over with the syringe and gave Radek the shot, and soon the Czech relaxed under Carson's careful hands and became still. Carson felt for his pulse and found it to be rapid, but steady, and he exhaled synchronously with Jennifer. They exchanged looks. "Definitely not the flu," Carson said.

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Part 3**

Rodney entered the small space above the Isolation Room and found that Sheppard and Woolsey were already there. So were Jennifer and Carson and they were all standing by the pane glass windows looking at the room below.

"What's going on?" Rodney asked. "Why has Zelenka been moved in here?" He was surprised to see Carson, but decided that a proper greeting would have to wait.

"We decided it would be best to isolate him until we understand the full extent of this disease," Jennifer said.

"This disease?" Rodney repeated, his voice a little more aggressive than intended. "You said he had the flu!"

"That's what I thought it was, yes." Her voice sounded sad and tired. "But his condition worsened rapidly over the night, and this morning he had a seizure."

Only now did Rodney steal a glance through the pane glass. He could see Zelenka lying in a bed in the circular room, surrounded by a forest of monitors and being tended to by a couple of nurses in HAZMAT suits. He thrashed weakly, but from this distance it was impossible to see whether he was really awake or not. "So, what's wrong with him then?"

"We're about to show you," Carson said. He stood by a screen currently displaying the Atlantis screen saver. "We gave him a good scan and found this."

He pushed a button and the screen changed. It now displayed the cross-section of a human brain. "Now, this is a normal, healthy human brain," Carson explained, nodding towards the multi-colored image. "And this is the scan of Radek's." He pushed the button again and a second cross-section appeared next to the first one. The difference between them was evident. The latter sported several dark spots.

"What the hell?" Sheppard said.

"Aye," nodded Carson. "As you can see we've discovered extensive cell necrosis in parts of his brain." He pointed to the dark spots on the image.

"Cell necrosis?" Woolsey repeated.

"Cell death," said Keller. "Put easily, his brain is dying. Or at least parts of it."

_Dying. _The word turned into a knot in Rodney's stomach and he had to turn away from the screen

"What's causing it?" he heard Woolsey ask. "Infection? Parasite?"

_Oh, please, no more parasites, _Rodney thought.

"The fever indicates infection," Carson answered Woolsey's question. "But it doesn't make sense."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, an infection usually indicates that there should be a bacteria or a virus present. But here there's no trace of any."

Woolsey frowned. "Then what is it?"

Rodney looked back towards the others and saw the two physicians exchange glances. "We don't know," Carson said.

Woolsey glanced through the window. "So what exactly is this… disease doing to him?"

"So far the cell necrosis seems to be confined to these particular parts of the brain," Carson said, again pointing to the dark spots on the image on the screen. "And most of the effects seem to be of a physical nature. It's not affecting him mentally, at least not at this point."

"Confined?" Woolsey repeated. "You mean, it's not spreading?"

"It appears it doesn't," Carson replied. "But the condition is still worsening. We're reading less and less activity in the affected areas as more and more cells die, and we've started to see signs of organ failure."

"But you'll be able to stop it, right?" Rodney said, now looking down at Zelenka again.

"We'll do everything we can of course," Jennifer said. "We've managed to bring the fever down some and it's not dangerously high at the moment. But this is new to us and unlike anything we've seen before, and we really have no idea how to treat it."

Rodney's head snapped back towards her. "Then find a way!"

He saw that his reaction startled her and he had never meant to sound so snappy. He had no idea where that came from, really, and in the corner of his eye he saw John give him a stern look. Jennifer stayed calm though, only looking sympathetically back at him. "We've already started looking for a cure."

"Good," Woolsey said with a nod, and then added: "Could this have something to do with the off-world mission to M9H-541?"

"It's very likely," Jennifer said. "I have already isolated the rest of the team from that mission, but so far none of the others are showing any symptoms."

"Major Lorne did mention that Zelenka went off on his own for a while," Sheppard recalled.

"Colonel, have a talk with Lorne," Woolsey ordered. "See if he has any information that might help. And, Dr. McKay, does the Ancient data file on M9H-541 say anything about a disease like this?"

"I'll check," Rodney said in a distracted voice.

Woolsey nodded and turned to Jennifer and Carson. "And I take it the two of you already have your hands full?"

* * *

Zelenka was awake when Jennifer entered the Isolation Room short after. His gaze followed her as she crossed the floor and approached one of the nurses, accepting the data tablet she was handed. She looked back at him through the visor of her HAZMAT suit, trying to smile reassuringly. Of course he wasn't that easily fooled.

"I am going to die, right?" he said, his voice thin and quivering.

"Hey, hey, none of that," she said and quickly went up to his bed, resting one hand on his arm. "We'll get you well again, Radek. Don't you worry."

He didn't look convinced at all. He just kept his eyes on her for a few moments before closing them. "Thank you for trying."

"Are you still in pain?" she asked, desperate for something to do. They had given him pain medicines earlier and it shouldn't have worn off, but still…

His head rolled slowly from side to side. "Not now."

"Okay." She squeezed his hand carefully, wishing she had Carson's bedside manners. He always seemed to know exactly what to say.

She listened to his shallow and ragged breathing for a minute or two. A nasal cannula fed him oxygen and she checked the flow, adjusting it a little. "That better?" she asked. He opened his eyes to peer up at her for a second, but didn't say anything, and soon he drifted away into unconsciousness again.

Jennifer bit her lip, just watching Zelenka for a while. His lungs were failing him. And she needed to find out how to help him.

* * *

When Sheppard reentered the room above the isolation chamber later that day, he wasn't really surprised to see Teyla there. What surprised him was the sincerely worried look on her face as she stood watching the sick scientist below. She turned her attention to John as he approached her. "I heard," she said.

"Good news travel fast around here," he said grimly, his voice thick with sarcasm. "I don't suppose you've ever heard of a disease like this before?"

"No," she shook her head. "Dr. Keller described the symptoms for me. I have never come across anything like it."

He sighed. His conversation with Lorne had also been fruitless. All the major had been able to tell him, was that Dr. Zelenka had went AWOL for only about fifteen minutes, before he'd returned to the rest of the group, claiming he'd just been inspecting a bird nest he'd found.

He told Teyla. "So far that nest is the only clue we have," he completed his tale. "But neither Lorne nor any of the others actually saw it." He sighed again, knowing this meant he would have to ask Radek himself.

He glanced through the window. The Czech certainly didn't look like he'd be able to have a coherent conversation at this point. He was pale and very still and John could see he was breathing in short gasps.

He tapped his radio earpiece. "Dr. Keller?"

Dr. Keller was standing beside Radek's bed and looked up at John as he paged her. "Yes, Colonel?"

"I will need to talk to him."

"You should come and do it now then," she answered. "I don't really know how coherent he is, but it will only get worse."

"I'll be right there."

He geared up in a HAZMAT suit and entered the Isolation Room. Keller greeted him at the door. "He is hardly awake. I don't know how much you will be able to get out of him."

"It's important, Doctor. We have no leads as to what happened to him, and if we're going to help him…"

"I know," she sighed.

They went over to the bed and Keller softly nudged Zelenka awake. "Radek, Colonel Sheppard is here and needs to talk to you."

He mumbled and they could see he was fighting to open his eyes. "T..brigh…" He sounded out of breath.

"The light is bothering you, I know," Keller said softly. "I have turned it down." She turned to John and said in a whisper, "His headache gets worse."

Radek peered up at them for a second, then closed his eyes again. "It's okay," John said understandingly. "You don't have to look at me, Doc. Just listen, okay?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember going off-world to M9H-541? Mosquito-planet?"

"Yes."

"Do you remember what you were doing there?"

Radek didn't answer right away. His face contorted in a frown as if he tried hard to remember. John decided to help. "Lorne said you went to look at a nest."

"Nest?"

"Yeah, a bird nest. You like that, right? Birds."

"Birds?" Zelenka sounded confused.

Keller shot John a worried look, and John frowned down at Zelenka. "Do you remember _anything?_" he tried. "Radek?"

The Czech let out a moan and turned his head away. "It hurts."

"I'll get you some more morphine in a minute," Keller said and patted his hand. She looked at John. "It's no use, Colonel."

Apparently she was right, John thought, but he decided to give it one last try. He leaned in and put a hand carefully on the sick man's chest. "Radek, please, try to remember."

Radek's eyes snapped open and his body suddenly contracted and started shaking. "He's having another seizure," Keller shouted to her nurses, and John was pushed out of the way.

He stood back and watched as Keller and the nurses tended to the Czech. After a few minutes the convulsions stopped and Zelenka went limp on the bed. John lifted his eyes and saw Teyla in the window above, now joined by Ronon and Woolsey. Teyla and Woolsey both looked shocked and worried, Ronon rather determined and a little angry.

Keller checked Radek's vitals on the monitor and then took John to the side. "You might as well leave. The seizures are making him sleepy and confused. Even more so, I mean."

"Damn," John said looking over at the Czech again. It seemed he had lost consciousness. "Hopefully Carson has better luck identifying this disease."

"And cooking up a cure," Keller added. "We're trying antibiotics now, and I do admit it's out of pure desperation, but it doesn't seem to have any effect."

John sighed and left the room. He stripped himself of the HAZMAT suit and went up to join the others on the observation platform again.

"Anything, Colonel?" Woolsey asked as soon as he entered.

"No. _If_ he remembers, he's unable to tell me. He's hardly with us."

Ronon kept his gaze sternly through the glass. "Is he in pain?"

"They're sedating him." For some reason John didn't felt like answering the question directly.

Just then his radio hissed. _"Mr. Woolsey, Colonel Sheppard, Rodney," _Carson's voice called. _"You all should meet me by the Isolation Room right away. You as well, Jennifer, if you're able to."_

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Part 4**

Rodney had spent the last hours searching the database for any information on M9H-541, but by the time Carson radioed him, he hadn't found anything he didn't already know. The Ancients concentrated on describing various plants, insects and animals; the birds Zelenka had taken such interest in, for example, was favored a considerable amount of text. There were however no mentions of anyone falling ill after a visit to the planet.

He was the last to arrive outside the Isolation Room, and he suspected the others had already been there when the Scot summoned them. Carson was once again standing by the view screen, looking both elated and really worried at the same time. As soon as he saw Rodney enter, he turned the screen on. "I found it," he proclaimed.

"Found what?" Sheppard asked.

"The bacteria." He pointed to a magnified image of a rather nasty-looking creature on the screen. "Look, here it is, the little bugger."

Jennifer frowned. "I didn't see this."

"You weren't looking for it," Carson explained. "This is from the first blood sample taken from Zelenka after returning from M9H, when he was in the infirmary to have the _habbatalus_ bites checked."

"Yes?"

"Okay, this is where it's getting weird. We have taken blood several times since then, but all later samples came back clean."

"What?" Woolsey said.

"The bacteria are gone."

Everyone looked a little confused as they took a minute to digest the information, or the lack of it. "I don't understand," Woolsey finally said. "If the bacteria are not in his body anymore, then that's a good thing, right? He's getting well."

"Clearly that's not the case!" Rodney barked. Gee, the man only had to turn around and have a look at Zelenka to see that.

Woolsey shot him a sour look and Teyla looked overbearing at him, but Rodney didn't care. He too was confused, and he could see on Carson's face that his friend didn't understand much either. This made no sense at all, and here was the expedition leader wasting valuable time by asking stupid questions.

"No," Carson said. "He's not getting better." And when he met the others' quizzical looks, he added, "I told you, it's weird. The bacteria only worked as a trigger, if you follow me. As far as I can tell, they entered his system, set in motion the cell necrosis, and then left. They're not there anymore. I even analyzed cell samples from the infected areas of his brain to confirm it."

Rodney made a face, wondering how the doctor had managed to retrieve said samples from Zelenka's brain. He wasn't even sure if he _wanted _to know how.

Jennifer frowned in disbelief. Carson saw it and nodded. "I know, this goes against the laws of medicine as we know it, but this is the Pegasus galaxy after all."

"So just to get this straight," Woolsey asked, "his brain cells are still dying?"

"Yes," the Scot replied and the room fell quiet for a moment. "And it won't be easy to find a cure, I'm afraid."

"Why not?" Ronon asked.

"Normally we would create a medicine that targets and neutralizes the bacteria, but since the bacteria are no longer present, there is nothing left to target." He looked at Rodney. "Did you find anything in the database?"

Rodney shook his head. "No. But I am 100 percent sure it's not the _habbatalus _that caused it." He glanced at Ronon, because he knew that that was what the Satedan was thinking.

"I agree," Carson said. "Everyone on that off-world team got bitten several times, but the bacteria were only found in Radek's blood sample. All the others came back clean. And so did all the various plant and soil samples they brought back with them. I have no idea what's behind this."

"It probably was something in the bird's nest, then," John said. "We should send a team back there to have a look."

"Is that wise?" Woolsey asked. "It's just pure luck that no one else got sick and…"

"Wearing HAZMAT suits of course," John said, sounding a little impatient and irritated.

"Maybe he didn't catch it on the planet at all," Jennifer shot in. "We're only guessing here."

"Why don't you people concentrate on finding the cure for the disease," Ronon suddenly barked. "And then you can argue about what _caused_ it later."

"Ronon…," Teyla started, but Carson cut her off.

"He's got a point," he said. "I am currently working on adapting the serum I take to keep my own cells from deteriorating into something that _might_ work on him as well."

"That sounds promising," Woolsey said.

"Let's hope so." The Scot turned towards Jennifer. "I could use your help."

"Of course."

Carson looked back at Woolsey. "Mr. Woolsey, I think it would be prudent to let the rest of Zelenka's team out of isolation, as they are not infected. And I see no need for HAZMAT protocol either. Whatever this is, it's clearly not contagious."

Woolsey nodded. "If that's your expert opinion, Doctor."

Rodney blocked out the rest of the conversation. He went over to the window and looked down at Zelenka again. He appeared to be asleep or unconscious, but when a nurse placed a rag on his forehead, he flinched. Rodney stepped back a little. He didn't want Radek to see him.

Jennifer was suddenly beside him. "Rodney, are you okay?"

"Sure," he instantly replied, but he couldn't get himself to look at her while he said it.

"If you want to talk to him, or…"

"No." The answer came so fast that it startled them both, probably him the most. He cleared his throat. "I… Don't you have work to do? _I _have." And then he turned on his heels and left the room, feeling her eyes on his back.

_This is wrong, _he thought to himself. _She cares about you. You shouldn't treat her like that. _But he didn't like it when people poked at his feelings in public, and she should have known that. _Why do they always bother __me__? _he thought to himself as he made his way through the hallways. _It's not like they ask Sheppard or Ronon on how they feel all the time. _He snorted.

_It's just because it's Radek, _he then realized and frowned. Why did people keep insisting that he and Radek were friends? They weren't. Zelenka was just a guy he worked with. A rather annoying, little guy he worked with. A guy he liked to work with…

Rodney stopped dead in his tracks. Had he just used the word 'like' about Zelenka, even if it was just in his own thoughts? Did he really like him? _No, _he thought after a short consideration. _I don't like him. He's not my friend. He's…_

He looked up and saw his own reflection in a mirror on the wall. His own eyes looked back at him, almost scrutinizing and accusing, as if they belonged to someone else. _Damn it all, _he thought as he jerked his eyes away from the mirror and continued down the hallway. _Damn it all to hell._

* * *

The next day Carson Beckett approached Woolsey as the latter was making his way back to his office after lunch. "Mr. Woolsey, a word?"

"Of course. Any news on Dr. Zelenka?"

Carson fell into stride with him as they continued down the hallway. "His fever broke this morning, but he keeps having seizures, and at more frequent intervals. Since yesterday he's had three of them, and they are taking a massive toll on his body."

Woolsey nodded, his face grave. "Have you tried the serum you talked about?"

Carson nodded. "Yes, that's what I wanted to tell you. We started him on it last night."

"Is it working?"

"It seems to have a positive effect, yes."

"Well, that's good." Woolsey both looked and sounded pleased.

"Well," Carson said hesitantly. "It hasn't fully stopped the cells from deteriorating, I'm afraid. It seems it only slows down the process, so to speak. They cells are still dying, but at a much slower rate."

"I see," Woolsey nodded. "At least it's bought us some time."

"Aye."

They turned a corner. "If you don't mind me saying, Doctor," Woolsey said, "you seem to put a lot of time and work into this."

"Does that surprise you, Mr. Woolsey?"

"Not at all. But I hope you know you don't _have _to do it."

"Oh, but I do." Carson stopped and so did Woolsey. "I'm a doctor and I've sworn an oath to help whoever needs me. It's true I don't have any official responsibilities here on Atlantis, but that also means that I, unlike Dr. Keller, have the time and the opportunity to concentrate solely on this task. And I aim to do so until I have a cure."

Woolsey nodded again as they continued walking. "You are of course welcome to."

"Besides," Carson added, "he's my friend."

Woolsey smiled sympathetically. "I understand. Believe me." They reached the last corner before the Control Room, and their paths separated. "Good luck, Doctor," Woolsey said as he turned right.

"Thank you," Carson replied and continued straight ahead.

He went back to the Isolation Room where Zelenka was still kept. Keller, now out of her HAZMAT suit, was standing by Radek's bed talking to a nurse when he entered, and she gave him a nod when she saw him. The nurse accepted a tablet from her and hurried past Carson and out of the room.

Carson looked at Jennifer. "How is he?"

Jennifer glanced at Zelenka in the bed. "Much calmer. He's been sleeping."

"Any more seizures?"

"No."

Carson went up to the bed and had a closer look. Radek was indeed calmer. He wasn't thrashing anymore, but he was still awfully pale and his breathing continued to be shallow and ragged.

"He's still in a lot of pain," Jennifer added. "I'm keeping him sedated, but I don't dare increase the dose. He's so weak."

Carson nodded grimly. "At least he seems pain free for the moment."

A sound from Jennifer made him turn towards her. "What are we going to do?" she blurted out. He could sense she was frustrated and that she had been for a while, and he completely sympathized with her. This was one of the days when being a doctor was hard.

"We are not giving up," he said.

"Oh no," she agreed, suddenly hiding her frustration behind determination. "Absolutely not."

* * *

He doesn't know where he is or how he got here. The room is small and circular and dimly lit, but the light still burns his eyes when he tries to open them. So he keeps them closed, taking in the sounds from his surroundings. Something is beeping to his right, feet shuffle across the floor, voices. Voices talking. He tries to concentrate on the voices. He wants to hear what they are saying. But the language makes so no sense to him. And somehow he feels as if it _should_ make sense. It's confusing.

His thoughts are drifting. It is so hard to hold on to them. It is hard to breathe too. His chest is so heavy, as if something or someone is sitting on it, and it takes great effort to draw in air. He wants to tell them that they have to remove whatever's sitting there, but he can't find the words. So he just keeps gasping for air, and tries to lift his hands to push the object away on his own. The hands are heavy too and don't really feel like they are his, but he manages to lift them a few inches. But by then he has forgotten why he did it.

Someone takes his hands and puts them back down on the mattress. A voice speaks to him. He doesn't understand the words, but the voice is calming and he trusts it. Something cold and wet is pressed to his lips and he curiously parts them, allowing the ice cube into his mouth. That's what it is. Ice cube. He remembers. He tries to open his eyes…

Somewhere in the back of his head he can feel pain. A distant, but growing pain. Like a caged animal waiting to be released. He finally manages to lift his eyelids and the light bursts into his dark world. He closes his eyes again. It's too bright. The pain grows. He wants to let them know he's hurting and tries to speak. All he can let out is a whimper.

But it is enough. The voice speaks to him again. A mask is placed on his face, over his nose and mouth. It makes it easier to breathe. A hand rests on his forehead and he thinks of the voice and the face it belongs to. A woman with long, blonde hair. He can't remember her name, and he knows he _should_ remember.

He can't remember much at all. It's hard to hold on to the thoughts. They slip from his mind as soon as they enter. It's frustrating, so he keeps chasing them until he finds one he can hold on to.

His name.

_I am Radek Zelenka, _he thinks.

Soon the pain fades. And so does the rest of the world.

* * *

Teyla had been looking for McKay for the better part of the day. He didn't answer when she radioed him, and so she had checked the labs, his quarters, the jumper bay and the mess hall, all the places the Canadian would normally be found. But he had not been there, and she was almost ready to give up, when she finally found him. In a place she had never expected him to be: The gym.

He was on the treadmill, walking at what she found to be a rather slow pace, but yet his face was red from the strain and he puffed like a steam engine. Teyla couldn't help but smile. "Rodney?" she exclaimed. "Are you working out?"

He flinched as he suddenly noticed her, and jumped off the treadmill as if it was suddenly on fire. "I..," he began.

"You should," she smiled. "It is very good for you."

He picked up a towel and patted it against his sweaty brow. "I've heard it's supposed to clear your mind," he said. "I can't say I agree. How am I supposed to think clearly being this uncomfortable?"

She just smiled. "I have been looking for you."

"You need me for something?"

"Well, actually I just wanted to check on you."

He sighed. "Why is everyone so worried about me? I'm not the one with a dying brain. It's Radek you should concentrate your worry on."

"And we are," she softly replied. "Drs. Beckett and Keller are doing everything they can. But I do not think I would be much use to them. I believe there is more need for me here."

He looked at her for a moment, still rubbing his face with the towel. "I'm fine," he said.

"So this is not why you came here to 'clear your mind'?" she asked.

He snorted. "No." He dropped his towel and continued, "This is so typical Zelenka, you know. He should have been more careful. But, no, he had to poke his nose into some bird's nest, 'cause he just can't help himself. I swear, the man is nuts! His curiosity takes the better of him."

"He sounds like another man I know…"

"Ha!" Rodney said and ranted on, "I mean, a _nest? _Why not leave that to the Zoology department, hm? He was there to look for Ancient devices. Stupid, stupid…"

Teyla didn't reply, knowing well why Rodney was behaving like this. She just waited patiently while he finished with his outburst. He became quiet quite suddenly and looked down at his hands. "Teyla, do you remember Grodin?"

"Of course," she said, remembering the British engineer who had died so heroically on the Ancestors' satellite while protecting Atlantis during the siege four years earlier. She was surprised that McKay chose to mention him now though.

"His last words were 'I'm sorry'. Can you believe that?"

She shrugged.

"I mean, the man was about to lay down his life for the rest of us, and yet he felt like he had to apologize. I have always wondered why he did that."

"He was a good man," Teyla said.

"Yes," Rodney agreed. "And a damn good scientist too." He paused for a second, then added, "I don't think I ever told him that."

She looked at him. "Rodney, is this about Grodin or is it about Zelenka?"

Rodney snapped out of the melancholy state just as fast as he'd fallen into it. "I am going to take a shower," he proclaimed. "And then I'm going to see if Carson's come up with anything."

And then he left the gym, leaving Teyla to watch him go with a concerned frown on her face.

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Part 5**

Carson Beckett had spent the entire day trying to further refine the serum, hoping to make it more efficient. But it seemed that no matter what he did, he had already stretched it as far as he could. It didn't help that McKay was constantly peering over his shoulder or pacing back and forth in the lab, but Carson wasn't angry with him. He knew the Canadian well enough to know how worried he was, and also that he would deny it if confronted with it, and so he let him hover around the room and answered patiently all his questions. Still, it was a very tired Scottish physician who entered Woolsey's conference room that evening.

Woolsey was there, so were Sheppard and his team and Keller. They all looked expectantly at him, except Rodney who already knew the state of things. His face must have given him away, because the hope soon disappeared from the others' eyes as well.

"I take it there's no good news?" Woolsey said.

Carson sighed and took his seat at the table. "I have tried all day. I don't think I can stop the necrosis this way."

Everyone took a moment or two to let the information sink in, then Keller frowned and put her elbows on the table, leaning forward a little as she spoke. "Perhaps we're approaching this the wrong way."

"What do you mean?" Carson asked.

"Well, so far we've been concentrating on _stopping _the cells from dying. But at this point that will not be enough. We will need something that _reverses _the process."

Carson nodded, knowing that she was of course right. He glanced around the room and saw that the others were all looking curiously at the blonde woman. She blushed, looking quite embarrassed. "But I really don't know how…," she admitted.

"What about nanites?" Ronon asked, and everyone shifted their gaze to him instead. Carson was surprised that the Satedan was the one suggesting it, and obviously so were the others.

"No," came Rodney's immediate answer. "Nanites won't work."

"They worked fine on your sister," Ronon hit back**.**

"Yes," sighed Rodney, "but that was different."

"How?"

Rodney slapped his hands impatiently on the table and turned in his seat to face Ronon. "Okay, nanites are programmed to repair damaged human cells, right?"

"Yeah?"

Rodney got up, went over to the view screen and turned it on, bringing up the cross-section of Zelenka's brain. "These cells are not _damaged_," he said, pointing to the dark spots that had obviously grown bigger over the last day. "They're _dead_. Beyond repair. We would have to replace the cells with replicated nanites and…"

He glanced at Sheppard, and the colonel sat back in his chair. "Yeah," he said. "Been there, done that, not gonna happen."

Rodney shrugged and shifted his gaze back at Ronon. "See?"

The Satedan mumbled something unintelligible, and Rodney took his seat again, looking beaten, frustrated and angry at the same time. Carson shook his head.

Then Keller's head suddenly snapped up, her eyes lit. "Replace?" she repeated. "That's it!"

They all looked at her, quite puzzled by her sudden outburst. She met each of their glances. "Rodney said 'replace'," she said as if that explained everything. "Look, what do you do when an organ fails?" It was an open question to the floor, but no one answered, so she did it herself. "You have a transplant, right?"

Ronon frowned. "I don't follow you."

She smiled. "We replace the dead brain cells with new ones."

Carson finally realized where his colleague was headed. "Stem cells?" he said.

She turned towards him. "Exactly."

Woolsey leaned forward, an increasing frown on his face. "Is that even possible?"

Keller turned back towards him. "Stem cell treatment is already in use several places on Earth. And," she smiled smugly, "the Ancients did of course advance much further on the subject than we have."

"What do you mean?"

"I came across their research on it last year."

Woolsey opened his eyes wide. "Are you saying they left a… recipe?"

She smiled that girlish smile of hers. "Sort of. I have been conducting experiments on it in my lab. With mice." She folded her hands and put them across her lips for a moment, then dropped them back to the table. "I can do it. I'm sure of it."

The room fell silent. Carson kept his gaze on Keller as he contemplated on what she had just said. Then he felt Woolsey's eyes at the back of his head, and realized that the expedition leader clearly wanted his views on the matter. He turned to face him. "She's definitely on to something."

Woolsey took a moment to consider it, then sat back in his chair. "All right, you have a go."

Everybody got to their feet and headed for the doors. Carson caught up with Jennifer in the hallway. "This is a good idea, love," he said.

"I hope so," she said. "I better get started right away. It takes some time to prepare and time is an issue here."

"I'll help you."

She smiled at him. "Thank you. But you've been working really hard these last couple of days, Carson. You need to get some sleep."

Something in him wanted to protest, but he just nodded. "You're probably right."

"Why don't you turn in? I'll get Jim to assist me. You can meet me in the lab tomorrow morning."

"Alright. See you then."

"Good night."

* * *

At lunchtime the next day, John Sheppard entered the mess hall to find the place just as crowded as he had expected. Scientists and marines were sitting at the tables, sharing meals and conversations, and there were a lot of people waiting in line in front of the buffet. But John had not come for the food. He swept his eyes across the room in search of a particular person.

He had just been by the Isolation Room to check on Zelenka. The Czech had looked worse than ever; unconscious, pale and drawn and struggling for each breath. Keller had told him that they would have to put him on a respiratory machine soon. She and Beckett were still busy working on the stem cells, and hopefully that would prove to be the solution, John thought as he finally spotted McKay.

Rodney was standing by himself on the balcony outside, looking the ocean view. John sighed. He was not good at this. _It should have been Teyla, _he thought to himself. But he knew for a fact that Teyla had already tried, and now it was his turn.

He went outside and joined his friend. "Hi," he said.

Rodney glanced sideways at him. "Hi."

For a minute none of them said anything, they just looked at the ocean, but John could clearly feel the tension and in the end he had to speak. "Keller and Beckett are almost ready."

"I know," came the short answer.

John let it rip. "M9H-541 was our mission."

Rodney glared at him. "What are you getting at?"

John turned to look at him. "This is not your fault."

"I know that! Gee…"

"Good. 'Cause that would be crazy-thinking. I told Major Lorne the same. He's feeling quite guilty too."

"I don't feel guilty!" Rodney snapped.

"Okay."

_Oh, this is going well, _John thought sarcastically to himself as he tried to come up with a different approach. He looked at McKay again. His friend hid it well, but John knew there had to be a storm of emotions going on inside. "So," he eventually said, "did you know Zelenka before you both joined the SG program?"

"Only by reputation," Rodney replied. "I'd read his work."

"Ah. Was it good?"

Rodney shrugged. "He wasn't too far off."

Sheppard smiled. Coming from Rodney that was probably a compliment.

There was a pause, then Rodney spoke, "He's the only one on this base who, you know, _almost _keeps up with me. It's like he knows what I'm thinking all the time. He… _gets _me."

John nodded. "I know what you mean."

"You do?"

"Yeah, sometimes you meet people you just, you know, click with." Rodney gave him a strange look and he quickly added, "Professionally."

"I guess you're right," Rodney said, shifting his gaze to the view again. "But only professionally."

"Oh, yes."

"I wouldn't say he is a _friend, _you know."

"No, no, of course not."

Another minute of silence fell between them, before John opened his mouth. "Where'd you meet then?"

"Antarctica. A few months prior to the expedition. He'd already been with the program for some time, though. So had I." A smile suddenly flickered across Rodney's face. "You know, the first time I saw him, he was standing over this device and…" The smile quickly disappeared, and suddenly Rodney shut down all emotions again. "Never mind."

John didn't pursuit the matter, knowing that McKay would never tell him the story at this point. Instead he said, "Maybe you should go see him?" Rodney didn't reply, so he continued on, "Keller says he's losing consciousness. If there's anything you'd like to say to him, or… You know, just in case he…"

"I have nothing to say," Rodney cut him off. "And now I'd better go get lunch or all the good stuff will be taken."

He turned and walked back into the mess hall.

* * *

Ronon didn't know a lot of science, and he had no idea what stem cells were. Upon request, Beckett had told him that they were basic cells that could be transformed into any kind of cell, depending on what kind you needed. With the help of the Ancients' research and Jennifer's experiments, they would be able to turn healthy cells from Zelenka's own body into brain cells that would replace the dead ones in his brain. It all sounded quite wild to Ronon, but he trusted the doctors. They had both worked miracles before.

He'd been by the Isolation Room, where Jennifer had taken a break from her work in the laboratory to check on Zelenka's condition. Ronon had watched as she carefully tended to him, feeling the knot of worry and anger grow in his stomach as her face became more and more grave. "Why's he having trouble breathing?" he'd asked.

"Well, as you know, it's the brain that tells our lungs to draw in breath," she had explained to him. "And right now the connection between Radek's brain and lungs is a bad one. Like static on a radio transmission, you might say."

"Damn," he'd said, wishing there was something he could do. Watching Zelenka like this was agony. He'd always liked that funny, little man.

He'd left after a while, having duties to fulfill. He and Teyla had been on a short trip to Remas to check on the settlement there. Afterwards he had gone with her to her quarters to say hi to Kanaan and little Torren, sharing a drink with them.

It was nearing six o'clock in the afternoon and a scheduled sparring with Sheppard, when he was radioed to the Conference Room together with the rest of the team.

The first thing he noticed as he entered the room was Jennifer's face. She looked dejected and uneasy, she was pale and her eyes had that quizzical look, as if she had seen something that both puzzled and scared her at the same time. His heart sunk. "What's wrong?" he asked, before anyone else had a chance to.

"It's not working," she blurted out.

Mr. Woolsey sat down in his chair and his brows drew together. "No?"

Dr. Beckett was over by the view screen and now he turned to face the rest of the room. "Please, sit down."

Silently they took their seats. Ronon glanced at each of his team members. Sheppard looked stern, his eyes glued to Beckett and the view screen; Teyla's eyes were also directed towards the screen, but they were rather worried or sad than determined; McKay's face was almost blank, hardly showing any emotion, but behind the table his body shifted nervously and he seemed unable to keep his gaze in one place.

"What happened?" Woolsey asked.

"I'll show you," Beckett answered, turning on the screen. "We added the new cells and… Well, you can see for yourselves."

The screen showed a string of pictures, so fast that it was almost like an animation. They showed the cross-section of the brain where the dark spots first appeared to shrink.

"It seems it's working fine," Woolsey managed to say before the spots suddenly began to grow bigger again at a rapid speed, until they were even bigger than before. "Oh."

"What the hell was that?" Sheppard said.

The two physicians just shook their heads, and Jennifer said, "As far as we can tell, the dead cells destroyed the new ones. _Killed_ them, actually."

"How can dead cells kill?" Ronon asked.

"Honestly, I have no idea," Carson replied. "It makes no sense at all. This disease continues to puzzle us."

"Will you try again?" Sheppard asked.

Jennifer hesitated. "I don't think I dare to. It just made him sicker. When this," she gestured to the screen, "happened he had a _major_ seizure. Trying it again could kill him." And Carson nodded in agreement, his blue eyes wide and sad.

McKay had gotten to his feet and wandered up to the screen, where he now studied the pictures with great intensity. Then he suddenly turned on his heels to face the others. "What if it were cells with an inherent ability to constantly heal themselves?" he said.

The others all looked at him. "What are you talking about?" Jennifer asked.

Rodney put his hands in the pockets of his uniform jacket and stood back on his heels. "I'm talking about Wraith cells."

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Part 6**

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, rewind!" John exclaimed. "Are you saying you want to put Wraith cells in Zelenka's brain?"

"Yes," Rodney said, taking his hands from his pockets and putting them behind his back. He shot out his chin and put on his well-known conceited look.

"Are you out of your mind?" John stared at him. "If turning him into part _Replicator_ is a bad idea, then turning him into part Wraith is a _terrible _idea!"

Rodney waved his hand impatiently. "We're not gonna turn him into a Wraith."

"_Part _Wraith!"

"Well, technically, yeah. But _technically _Teyla is part Wraith." He gestured towards the Athosian woman, who stared back at him just like everyone else in the room.

John wasn't that easy to convince. "No," he said, "No!"

Rodney sighed and waved his arms in frustration. "Listen to me! It won't turn him into a Wraith. It won't affect him at all. If we can transform the cells to suit our needs, which I'm sure we can," he tapped his fingers on the screen, "they will simply act like human cells, except for the fact that they are much more resistant. And they will be confined to a small part of his brain only."

"Well, correct me if I'm wrong," Sheppard said, "but isn't the brain a quite _essential_ part of the body?"

"I said, they won't affect him!"

"No!" Sheppard repeated. "Just… no."

"Actually, it might just work," Jennifer shot in. She looked at the screen, then went up and joined Rodney beside it. "Yes," she decided. "It could definitively work."

The colonel looked at them as if they were both crazy. "Need I remind you of the Hybrids?"

Everybody shifted their eyes to Carson, like they always did at the mention of Hybrids. The Scot looked quite uncomfortable under their scrutiny.

"He won't become a Hybrid either!" Rodney said, effectively saving the physician from the awkward situation. He pierced the colonel with his glare before Sheppard could interrupt him. "And, no, he won't turn into a bug. Hell, he won't even become Ford!"

Jennifer could clearly see how effective the mention of Lt. Ford was on their military leader. A flicker of sadness fell across the colonel's face for a second or two, before it became stern once again. "And you are sure about this?" he said.

"Yes." Rodney's reply was an instant one, but Sheppard was apparently more interested in Jennifer's answer as she was the one he was looking at.

She hesitated a little. "We should at least try," she said. "It's never been done before. But if it could save his life…"

John sighed, and everyone looked at Woolsey. He had been sitting quietly in his chair during the whole conversation, but now he cleared his throat. "Do we even have Wraith cells at hand?"

"We do," Jennifer answered. "In the freezer."

Woolsey nodded. "I have to agree with the colonel that this sounds a little… reckless," he said. "However, if you're confident it can be done, _without _hurting him in any way, I see no reason why we shouldn't at least look into the possibility."

"We'll run lab tests," Jennifer said.

Woolsey turned to Carson. "What do you think?"

"It's worth a try," the Scot replied.

"Alright." Woolsey folded his hands on the conference table. "I will, however, have to contact the IOA on this."

Rodney rolled his eyes, and Ronon said, "Why?"

"We will be conducting a medical experiment that at the end of the day could affect this entire base," Woolsey said. "We're talking about putting cells from a Wraith into a man's brain, for Christ sake. If there is just a _remote_ chance that it can lead to… unpleasant side-effects, then they need to be aware of it."

"Fine," Carson said quickly before Rodney had a chance to make a remark.

"But you are allowed to run tests on it in your lab," Woolsey added. "Then you can report back to me, and I will present your case for the IOA."

Jennifer and Carson nodded, but Rodney was already headed for the door. "Let's get started."

The others began leaving the room as well. Carson followed Rodney towards Med Lab, but Jennifer swung by the Isolation Room to check on the patient. The Swedish nurse met her at the door when she entered. "I was about to call you, Doctor," he said. "He's having serious respiratory trouble now."

Jennifer hurried past him and over to Zelenka's bed. The scientist struggled hard to get air and his face was starting to turn blue. She quickly put on her stethoscope and listened to his lungs for a while. There was no doubt. "His lungs are shutting down," she said to the nurse. "Intubate him and start him on the ventilator."

The nurse immediately went to work, and Jennifer stepped back and watched as he slid the tube down the Czech's airways, careful not to damage the vocal cords. One of the other nurses wheeled the medical ventilator into position, and as soon as he was connected to it, Radek's chest began to rise and fall in a steady rhythm.

Jennifer sighed. With that strain taken off of him, Radek could use his strength elsewhere, she thought to herself. And he would need it. His heart was getting weaker too.

She looked at the nurse. He had been outstanding these last few days, working tirelessly, and she knew for a fact that he had been pulling double shifts. "You're Andersson, right?" she asked him.

"Yes," he replied. "Niklas Andersson."

"You've done a great job, Niklas. It will be noted."

"Thank you, Doctor," he said.

"I mean it," she said and patted him on the shoulder. "Keep this up and there might be a promotion for you in the future."

He gave her a little smile. "Thanks again, but that's not why I do it." He looked at Zelenka. "I only wish I could do more."

"We're still working on it," she said. "You just keep him alive now, okay? I'll be in Med Lab. Radio me if there's any change."

"Of course," he said, and she hurried away to join Rodney and Carson.

* * *

It took McKay and the two physicians almost twenty-four hours to complete their report and deliver it to Woolsey. They crowded together in his office and held their presentation there.

"We have managed to create suitable brain cells from the Wraith stem cells," Jennifer began before Woolsey even asked. "It took some time, but we got there in the end."

"Impressive," Woolsey said, and he actually sounded like he meant it.

"We've run several lab simulations now," Carson said as he handed Woolsey a stack of printouts, scans and transcripts in a folder. "And in some of the simulations the Wraith cells had the desired effect. They simply replaced the dead cells and took over their task of running the brain."

"And they didn't die," Rodney shot in.

Woolsey looked at Carson over the rim of his glasses. "In _some _of the simulations?"

"Well." Carson hesitated a little. "It didn't work every time."

Woolsey glanced at one of the sheets he had been handed. "Exactly how many times _did _it work, Doctor?"

"In about 30 percent of the simulations," Carson answered hurriedly and bit his lip.

The expedition leader's head snapped up. "30 percent? That's it? Those are not good odds, Doctor."

"I know," Carson said.

"But 30 percent chance is better than no chance at all, which is, I might add, what he'll have if we don't do anything at all," Rodney added, keeping a determined gaze on his boss.

Woolsey glanced at him and then shifted his gaze back to the two physicians. "So, worst case scenario, it won't work and he'll die?"

Carson and Jennifer exchanged looks, and Rodney bit his lip, fighting the urge to scream at them for being too honest. Woolsey frowned. "Well?" he said.

Carson looked back at him. "Honestly, we can't know for sure that there'll be no other possible outcome of this… treatment. It has never been tested on a real, living person."

"Look, if it doesn't work he'll probably just die," Rodney shot in.

"But you can't be sure?" Woolsey repeated. "Are you saying that there actually _is _a chance that these cells will effect him in an non-desirable way?"

"The chances for that are microscopic!" Rodney barked impatiently.

Woolsey ignored him and looked at Carson for the answer. Carson glanced at Rodney and sighed. "There's no way of knowing," he said.

"It's true," Jennifer said, shifting nervously the weight from one foot to the other. "There is at least a theoretical possibility that this will, you know, _change_ him."

"Turn him into a Wraith?" Woolsey suggested.

She shrugged. "The chance is very, very slim. But, no, we can't rule anything out."

"It won't happen," Rodney said to no one in particular.

Woolsey put the sheets back in the folder. "I will present this to the IOA right away," he said. "But I gotta tell you, judging from what I've heard so far, I wouldn't be too optimistic about their ruling." He rose from his desk. "We'll meet in the Conference Room later."

He left and Rodney turned to glare at his two colleagues. "Gee, thanks for helping out," he said sarcastically. "I really think we sold it to him."

"Rodney, we cannot lie," Carson said calmly.

"No, but you can twist the truth a bit."

"I think that's what we did," Jennifer said and put a hand on his shoulder. "30 percent _is_ a quite optimistic estimate."

Knowing she was right, he closed his mouth and just stood there for a few moments, actually enjoying the comfort her touch gave him.

* * *

Sheppard's team was summoned to the Conference Room just a few hours later. Teyla had been out for a walk with Torren in a stroller when the call came, and she had hurried back to leave the child with his father, before she made her way there.

She was the last to arrive, and from the looks of the others she could easily guess what the IOA's verdict had been. "They said no?" she asked.

"Yeah," John said. He didn't sound surprised, and she understood him well. _She _wasn't surprised.

She quietly took her seat and looked at Keller and Beckett. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said, and Carson nodded silently. Then she looked at Rodney. He was standing by the wall, opposite the table from Woolsey, looking furious. His eyes were dark and piercing in a way she had never witnessed before, the veins on his neck all stood out, and he was scowling at the expedition leader as if the man represented all that was wrong with the universe.

"I don't get it," Ronon said. "If this can save Dr. Zelenka, why won't they let us do it?"

"Because of the alleged side-effects," Rodney snarled, not taking his eyes from Woolsey.

Woolsey sighed. "They find the outcome of the experiment to be too uncertain."

"The chances that it will heal him are much bigger than the chances that it will harm him," Rodney continued.

Woolsey looked at him. "I tried to sell it to them, I really did. But tampering with Wraith cells, yes, with _anything_ Wraith, is a delicate matter. And we're talking about _one_ life here, and as much as I hate to say it, in the end it was an easy choice."

"It's an easy choice for _them, _yes," Rodney barked. "His not _their… _colleague."

"The treatment has not been tested." Woolsey kept his voice calm and steady.

"We will test it on _him_!"

"We cannot simply conduct medical experiments on people like that, Doctor McKay. And absolutely not one as uncertain as this."

"It will not turn him into a Wraith," Rodney stated once again, his voice quivering with suppressed anger. "It won't affect him at all. Not his intelligence, nor his physiology, eating habits, and, unfortunately, not his personality."

"I'm sorry," Woolsey simply said. "Unless he's agreed to it…" He looked at Carson and Jennifer.

Carson shook his head. "He just slipped into a coma."

"From which he will probably never wake up," Jennifer added.

"Well, that's a problem," Woolsey said. "Who's his next of kin?"

"A sister," Rodney replied. "_Not _security cleared. But it doesn't matter! By the time we reach her, it will be too late."

Woolsey sighed and took off his glasses for a moment. "Then I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do. The IOA has made their decision and I am obliged to follow."

"Then you've killed him!" Rodney hissed through gritted teeth, as he angrily stepped out of the room.

Woolsey cleared his throat and put his glasses back on his nose. He received an angry glare from Ronon as well, as the big Satedan got to his feet and followed Rodney through the door. Teyla shook her head.

John gestured towards the door. "I'm sorry about that," he said.

"Never mind," Woolsey said. "It's understandable." He looked at the physicians. "I take it you're out of options."

Carson and Jennifer both nodded quietly, and Teyla felt an uneasy feeling in her stomach as she realized what this meant.

Woolsey looked genuinely sad. "How long?" he asked.

"At this rate," Carson said, "a day, _maybe _two."

Woolsey nodded comprehensively. "Keep him as comfortable as possible."

"Absolutely."

"Mr. Woolsey," Teyla said softly, "Dr. Zelenka has several friends here on Atlantis. They should know."

"Of course," he said.

"We're moving him back to the infirmary," Carson said. "No one should have to die in that horrible Isolation Room." He blinked several times, and it seemed he was trying hard to keep his emotions from his voice. "Anyone who wants a private goodbye is welcome there."

He and Jennifer left the room. Teyla looked at John. He was slumping in his chair, and a shadow of regret and grief had fallen across his features. Teyla could only guess that her own face looked the same. She reached out and touched his hand, and he looked up at her. "Damn," he said.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Part 7**

Losing patients was an inevitable side of being a surgeon, and Carson wondered if anyone ever came to terms with that. He, for one, certainly didn't. As they carefully wheeled Zelenka's bed from the Isolation Room to the infirmary, and settled him in a quiet, shielded spot in the corner, he was constantly fighting the urge to throw something.

He knew Keller felt the same way. She had become awfully quiet, and she flinched as he put his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry, Jennifer," he said.

She swallowed hard, and managed a little smile. "Thanks for helping out." She sighed. "I might as well start filling out the papers."

She headed to her office, and Carson turned his attention to Radek. The Czech was deeply unconscious and unresponsive, and there was no way of communicating with him, but just to be on the safe side, Carson increased the dose of morphine. What harm would it do now?

Soon people started to arrive. Scientists – mostly physicists and engineers, but also from various other departments – and marines alike came to see Zelenka. As it turned out, many people were fond of him. They came alone or in groups of two or three, with grave and grieving faces, some cried. It was hard to watch, but good as well.

Sheppard came. He just stood there watching Radek for a while, then bent down and awkwardly patted his arm before he left.

Ronon arrived next and behaved in a similar manner.

Major Lorne came by, looking devastated, and Carson felt truly sorry for him. It was easy to see that the he carried the burden of guilt. The Scot didn't say anything, knowing that no words of comfort would work at this point anyway. He just smiled mildly at the marine and clapped a hand to his shoulder as he left.

Rodney never showed. Carson wasn't surprised, but knowing that the Canadian would only regret it later, he truly wished that the man had chosen differently.

Teyla was among the last to arrive. She came into the room so quietly that he didn't notice her until she spoke. "Dr. Beckett?"

He turned to face her. "Yes, dear."

"I would like to sit here. Until he…"

He nodded comprehensively. Even though Teyla and Zelenka weren't exactly close, it came as no surprise to him that Teyla volunteered to this. "It can still be awhile," he warned her.

"I understand. But I do not want him to die alone. He deserves better. I know that you will be here, of course, but…" She didn't finish the sentence.

"Let me get you a chair," he said with a little smile.

Chair in place, Teyla sat down by the Czech's bed and gently grasped his hand, as she and Carson began their silent vigil.

* * *

Knowing that McKay would want to be left alone and probably had gone into hiding somewhere, John didn't go looking for him when he left the infirmary. But he wanted company, so instead he tracked down Ronon and invited him to join him in the gym for a little sparring. It helped them both to unwind, and Ronon in particular seemed to have a lot of steam to blow off this evening. He hit at John with all his might, he snarled as he did so and his eyes were determined and angry.

"You're in a mood," John said after he'd just managed to dodge a stick that missed his head by an inch.

"I don't get you people," Ronon replied.

"Woolsey had no choice," John said, knowing very well what his friend meant. "If he doesn't obey, the IOA will simply replace him with someone who does."

Ronon hit at him again and their fighting sticks smacked together with a loud crack. "The IOA has no idea what life is like out here, and yet they're calling all the shots."

"Yeah, that's pretty much how it works. It's annoying, I know."

"It's not just _annoying, _Sheppard. People are dying because of it. I don't see why we let a bunch of morons in suits sitting in their offices a galaxy away decide who gets to live and who dies out here." He stepped back a little, preparing for his next move. "We should help Zelenka. The IOA doesn't need to know."

John didn't take his eyes off him, waiting for the next attack. "They will find out. They're not _that _stupid. And when they do, they will certainly have us fired. Helping Zelenka would mean risking everything."

"You don't think it's worth it?"

John sighed a little. "It's also a matter of ethics, Ronon," he said.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, we have certain laws and ethical guidelines on medical experiments on people. I know Rodney sounded certain that the treatment would be successful, but truth is the odds are _not_ good. What if it went horribly wrong? Wraith cells, right? Considering what the outcome could be, maybe death is the better fate?"

Ronon lunged forward and John parried his attack. "I still think it's worth the chance," the Satedan said.

"And maybe I agree with you," John replied. "But that's not our choice to make."

"But Radek can't make that choice now."

"No," John sighed. "He can't. And like I said, our laws prevent us from submitting people to untested medical treatments without their permission."

Ronon stepped back and picked up his water bottle. "So we're letting him die?"

"We're letting nature take it's course," John said. Somehow that sounded better.

Ronon had a sip of water and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "If he'd been Satedan, I would've shot him."

"You'd shoot Zelenka?" John repeated with a questioning frown.

"Yeah. He might be in a lot of pain, right, and he's gonna die anyway, so why let him suffer?" Ronon looked serious.

"Yeah," John said slowly as he picked up his own bottle. "We don't do that."

"Ethics?" Ronon asked.

John nodded.

"Then I guess we have a different kind of ethics," Ronon stated and waved his stick around a little. "I'm gonna miss him," he said next.

"Me too," John said. "He keeps McKay on his toes."

He threw away his bottle and the two men barged into one another again.

* * *

Teyla had seen a lot of death in her life. But mostly it had meant screams, fear and drained shells of what had once been bodies. Slow death like this, she was not that accustomed to. Being able to sit at someone's death bed, watching them breathe their last, was a rare experience for her. She'd had that opportunity with Charin a few years back, for which she was very grateful, and she had it now with Zelenka.

Radek was not as close to her as Charin had been, of course. In fact, she didn't know him very well at all, she came to realize during the hours she sat there by his bed. They had never spent much time together, except when in danger. And in times of peril getting to know someone wasn't high on her list.

They had had a few conversations over the years, though, and as she recalled them, she realized how much she had appreciated them. Unlike Rodney, he'd always had the patience to explain things to her, using words and expressions she could easily understand. She smiled at the memories, but they also filled her with great sadness, as she realized she would never get to know him better now.

She knew he was from the Czech Republic, a country in the part of Earth they called Europe. A country she'd learned was quite different from the United States or Canada. She wished now that she had asked him to tell her more about it. She also knew he liked birds and to play Chess, but these were all things _everybody_ knew about him.

She spoke softly to him as the hours went by. The rhythmic, hissing sound from the ventilator gave the impression that his breathing was deep and steady, but Carson had told her that the machine was doing all the breathing for him now. His heart was getting weaker and his blood pressure was dropping. He was dying.

She looked at the hand she held in hers. Radek had tiny hands. Almost like the hands of a woman, she thought to herself. They were not the rough, scarred hands one would expect a man of his profession to have. They were clean and groomed,except for the very short fingernails. He used to bite them when he was nervous. See, that was another thing she knew about him.

It was nighttime when Carson carefully placed his hands on her shoulders. "He's putting up a fight," he said in a whispering voice. "It seems this will take some time yet. Why don't you go and be with your family and get some sleep? I promise I will radio you as soon as anything happens."

She turned her head and faced the doctor. He looked like he could use some rest himself, but she knew Carson Beckett was not going anywhere tonight. She considered his offer for a minute. Kanaan wasn't expecting her. She'd apologized to him earlier when she explained to him why she needed to be in the infirmary. He'd been just as understanding as always. He'd just put his fingers on her lips and said, 'Stop apologizing for being you. Go sit with your friend, and may the Ancestors grant him an easy passing.' She'd hugged him hard. Sometimes it was impossible to grasp the fact that this wonderful man was actually hers.

"Alright," she eventually said to Carson. "But please call, even if it is in the middle of the night."

"I will, love," he promised.

She gave Radek's hand a little squeeze as she rose from her seat. "I will be back," she said.

* * *

He floats.

Images flicker before his eyes. They make no sense. He sees faces and places he can't name, yet they seem familiar. He sees a river, high towers and cobbled streets. He sees marching people with red banners. He sees a sky full of stars. He feels the cold of a winter's night. He sees soldiers. He hears voices…

He sees a ring with a vertical pond in the middle. It's weird. And yet it's not.

He sees an ocean and a city floating on the water. He sees grand, sun-illuminated rooms and dark hallways. He sees tall men with long, white hair and gill-like slits on either side of their noses, looking at him with yellow, piercing eyes. He feels the fear it awakens in him. But there are other people too. Friendly people. And he hears voices…

Only one voice is constant. The voice of a woman. She talks to him. He doesn't understand the words, but the voice is soft and friendly and it soothes him.

The images flicker faster and faster. A man with spiky, black hair. Dark hallways. Looming towers. A man with a red leaf on his shoulder. A ring with a pond in the middle. A woman with auburn hair and tanned skin and a bright smile. Cobbled streets. Marching people with red banners. A giant with a stern, but yet not hostile look in his eyes. Soldiers. Tall men with long, white hair. A woman dying in his arms. Birds. Feathers cascading on him. And the voices…

He wants to escape the images. They make no sense anyway. He wants to let go. Give in to the darkness that's closing in. But it won't take him just yet.

The female voice is still there, ringing out like a beacon in all the chaos. He tries to follow it, tries to hold on to it, even though the words it speaks mean nothing to him.

"Radek," it says. He knows this word. He knows this name. It's a name. It's _his_ name. And he wants to hold on to it before the chaos takes it away again.

_I am Radek, _he thinks. _I am dy…_

* * *

It was early in the morning, and Jennifer had finally managed to track down Rodney. She found him in one the auxiliary labs in the outskirts of the populated part of the city, preoccupied with work.

"Have you been here all night?" she asked.

All she got in return was a grunt.

She stepped in closer and peered over his shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he snapped back. "I'm refining the Wraith cell treatment. If we can increase the chances of it working, then maybe…"

"Rodney," she interrupted, in her calmest voice. "It's no use." She knew he already knew that, and yet she didn't want to tell him, because she saw how much he was hurting. It made her heart bleed. "They won't let us use it."

He didn't reply, just continued to tap at the keyboard of his laptop. "Rodney," she said, and her voice was quivering. She had to swallow hard and take a deep breath. "Radek is dying. He doesn't have much time left. And perhaps you should spend that time differently."

He gave a snort, but it didn't seem heartfelt.

She went up to him. "Look at me, Rodney," she said, and now her voice was stern. He slowly moved his gaze from the computer screen to her. "You're fooling no one, least of all me. I know what he means to you, and if you truly think of yourself as his friend, then you know there's somewhere else you should be right now."

And she turned around and left the room, without waiting for his reaction.

* * *

One of the more peculiar changes Richard Woolsey had brought to Atlantis was the concept of 'cultural lunch'. He wasn't even completely settled at the base before he had invited anyone who played an instrument to perform in the mess hall during lunch hour. No one had showed any interest, so he'd repeated the inquiry the next week, and when still nobody volunteered, he'd begun ordering people to do it. Today it was the red-haired soprano performing, John noticed from his seat. Classical music wasn't normally his style, but this girl wasn't bad, he recalled. He couldn't quite remember her name, but John never forgot a face. Especially not one as pretty as this.

The room was crowded as always at lunchtime, but silent, as most people were listening to the redhead's song. John listened as well, but his thoughts were drifting elsewhere. He'd spent most of the morning thinking about the conversation he'd had with Ronon in the gym the night before, and he couldn't shake the unsettling feeling in his stomach it had given him. He couldn't help but think that maybe _not_ helping Zelenka was the wrong call after all. But in the end, what did it matter? The choice wasn't his, it had never been.

He sighed and thought about Zelenka and how different life on Atlantis would surely be without him. He knew that Teyla had just been called back to the infirmary, which meant it wouldn't be long now…

He suddenly spotted McKay across the room. He hadn't seen the Canadian since the meeting with Woolsey yesterday, and it was quite apparent that his friend had not slept at all. His face was drawn and paler than usual, the hair unruly. He was sitting by himself, seemingly listening to the music. John considered walking over to him, but decided not to. Rodney didn't look like he wanted company.

John directed his concentration to the singing woman instead, and the words she sang caught his attention, which was a little strange. The lyrics of a song didn't normally interest him, for him the tune and melody was the most important part, but these words he suddenly found himself listening to.

"_How can I see through your eyes, my destiny," _she sang. _"I fall apart, you bleed for me. How can I see through your eyes? Our worlds collide. Open your heart to close our great divide."_

McKay suddenly got to his feet and hurried out of the room. John watched him leave, and considered following him, but didn't.

"_So I just float with the tide through the night," _the redhead sang. _"I pass you by. Open my heart to close our great divide."_

* * *

Rodney didn't really know exactly _when _he'd realized what he had to do. Perhaps it had been when Jennifer visited him in the lab, perhaps it was when he heard the song in the mess hall. But anyway it was suddenly quite clear to him what had to be done. And it had to be done before it was too late. And so, only a few minutes after he'd left the mess hall, he arrived at the infirmary.

Carson first looked surprised, but then really pleased to see him. He got to his feet as soon as Rodney entered. "You're here," he said, stating the obvious.

Rodney just looked at Zelenka in the bed. Teyla was sitting in a chair beside it, and she smiled mildly up at him. Then Rodney felt Carson's hand on his shoulder. "You're just in time, Rodney," he whispered. "His heart's about to give in. It won't be long now."

Rodney swallowed and found his voice. "Could I… Could I have a moment?"

"Of course," Carson said in an emotional voice and patted his back, and Teyla rose from her seat and followed the physician to the other end of the room.

Rodney made sure they were out of earshot before he went up to Radek's bedside. For a minute he just stood there watching him. He looked so different, without his glasses and so pale and lifeless. His face was gaunt, he'd clearly lost weight.

Rodney glanced over his shoulder and saw that Carson was pouring Teyla a cup of coffee. Looking back at Zelenka, he took a deep breath and reached out a hand. He rested it at the Czech's wrist and cleared his throat. "Radek… I…"

He stopped without finishing the sentence, and slowly exhaled. Then he leaned in and whispered in Radek's ear. "Please forgive me."

* * *

Carson was happy that Rodney after all had chosen to come and see Zelenka one last time. The Canadian didn't stay for long, though. After only a few minutes he left Radek's bed and headed for the door. "Are you sure you don't want to stay?" Carson asked as he passed by. "It won't be long."

"No." Rodney's answer was short, but emotional, and Carson realized the man just couldn't bear watching his dying colleague anymore, and so he just nodded comprehensively.

Rodney almost ran into Keller at the door. "Rodney?" she exclaimed, but he didn't answer and hurried past her. She glanced after him, and then turned towards the others.

"At least he came," Carson said, and Jennifer nodded.

Teyla had taken her seat at the bedside again, and both physicians joined her. "His pressure's dropping rapidly," Carson quietly told Keller. "Just minutes now…"

They waited silently around the bed. Teyla and Carson on opposite sides, Keller at the foot. A group of sad-looking nurses were standing in the doorway. Teyla held Zelenka's hand in hers, while she used the other to gently stroke his head. "It's alright, Radek," she said softly. "You have fought so hard. You can let go now."

A frantic beeping came from the monitor as the heart rate became unstable, then one last, long beep as Radek Zelenka flatlined.

Teyla bowed her head, one lonely tear found its way down her cheek. Carson put on his stethoscope and listened to Zelenka's chest. "He's gone," he said silently and looked at his watch. "Time of death… 13.21."

He turned off the ventilator, and when he saw how the chest seized to rise and fall, it really dawned on him that the man was dead. He blinked back his tears.

Teyla looked up at him. "An easy passing," she said, and they both smiled a little.

In the corner of his eye he saw Jennifer clench her fists, and he gently draped an arm around her shoulders. "You did everything you could, Jennifer," he soothed.

"But I didn't!" she snapped. "They wouldn't let me." And tears of anger welled up in her eyes.

He patted her on her back. "Let's all just take a moment," he said.

She wiped at her tears and nodded in agreement, and for a couple of minutes they all stood there paying their respect in silence.

Then Carson let out another sigh and reached out a hand to turn off the heart monitor.

TBC


	8. Chapter 8

**Part 8**

The next beep from the monitor startled all three of them. Their heads all turned to the screen just in time to see the line make a little jump, before going flat again. And then another beep and another jump.

"What the hell?" Carson muttered and fumbled with his stethoscope. Finally in place, he held it to Zelenka's chest, holding his breath as he waited. Another beep came from the monitor, and there it was, the unmistakable sound of a heartbeat. "Oh my God, he's back! Hurry, the ventilator, he can't breathe on his own."

Keller dived in to switch the machine back on as the nurses in the doorway piled into the room. Teyla looked wide-eyed at the commotion. "What happened?"

"Hell if I know," Carson replied. He lifted Radek's eyelids and shone a penlight in each of his eyes. "He's still unresponsive."

_Yes, but his heart is beating,_ Carson added silently to himself, as he studied the monitor and found the heart rate to be good and stable. He exchanged glances with Keller. She looked shocked. _How?, _her eyes asked him, but her voice was stern and steady as she switched back into doctor-mode. "Let's put him under the scanner, people."

* * *

"Are you saying he died and then came back from the dead?" Woolsey asked, his gaze shifting between the two people on the other side of his desk.

"Yes," Jennifer said.

Woolsey grimaced and leaned back in his chair. "How can that be?"

"I have no idea." Carson's eyes were wide and puzzled. "But he was definitively dead. There was no heart beat, no pulse, no brain activity."

"For how long?"

"I'd say closer to five minutes."

"We can't explain it," Jennifer added. "But as soon as his heart started beating again, we put him under the scanner. And…" She put her laptop on Woolsey's desk and turned the screen towards him. "As you can see, the cell necrosis has begun to reverse itself. New brain cells are replacing the dead ones."

Woolsey studied the picture. "Just out of the blue like that?"

"Like Jennifer said, we can't explain it," Carson said. "However…" He hesitated for a moment before he continued. "This is exactly the reaction we'd hoped to see with the Wraith cell treatment."

Woolsey's head snapped up. "But the IOA clearly stated…"

"We didn't do it," Jennifer interrupted.

Carson shook his head. "I didn't administer it, and I was there all the time…"

Just then the realization hit Jennifer, and she gasped, clasping a hand over her mouth. "Rodney!"

She glanced at Carson for affirmation and his eyes widened. "He was alone with him," he mumbled. "Just for a few moments…"

"Would that be enough?" Woolsey leaned forward.

"Aye," nodded Carson. "It would only take a small injection." He looked back at Jennifer. "It must have been him. Oh, crap."

"So what's happening to Dr. Zelenka?" Woolsey asked.

"Well, so far it looks like it's working fine," Jennifer said, a little amazed.

Carson nodded. "He's still on the ventilator and still deeply unconscious, but at this rate it's only a matter of time before he can breathe on his own again."

"And no side-effects?"

"No _physical _ones," Jennifer said. "At least not yet."

"But it's impossible to tell whether it's affected him mentally or not before he comes out of the coma," Carson added. "And that might take awhile yet. If ever."

Woolsey sighed and tapped at the edge of the office table with his pen. "The IOA will not be pleased. They will expect me to react." The two physicians silently nodded their heads, and Woolsey tapped his earpiece. "Colonel Sheppard?"

* * *

Rodney had known it wouldn't take them too long to figure out what he'd done. So when Woolsey entered his lab, trailing Sheppard and Jennifer, he knew why they were there. He slowly spun his office chair around and looked at them. "Is it working?" was all he asked.

"So far," Woolsey answered.

"I told you it would."

"That's hardly the point, Rodney," Sheppard said. He sounded disappointed and a little angry, but mostly sad.

"So it _was_ you?" Jennifer asked. Her voice sounded _only _sad.

"Yes, I did it," he said and shot his chin out. "And I'm not sorry."

He really wasn't. In his heart there was no doubt he'd made the right choice in the mess hall that day. He'd been by Med Lab on his way to the infirmary to collect the adapted Wraith cells. He'd hidden the syringe up the sleeve of his uniform jacket, and when he was alone by Radek's bed, he'd taken it out, and carefully shielding the process from the others with his body, he'd stuck the needle in the IV port and emptied the contents directly into Zelenka's veins.

"It was reckless," Woolsey said.

"It's working."

"_So far_!" Woolsey barked back. "We have no idea what the long-term effects will be, or if it's changed him mentally. Do you realize what you might have done? You might have condemned your friend to a fate worse than death."

"He's not my friend…"

"Oh please!" Woolsey shouted. "Like you would have risked your job, your career and your reputation for someone who's not your friend! Because that's what you have. The IOA is furious!" He took a moment to calm his voice. "You are as of now relieved of your duties and confined to your quarters."

The room got awkwardly silent. Rodney shifted a little in his chair, then got to his feet. "I did the right thing," he said in a calm, low voice, keeping his eyes sternly on Woolsey. "You will see that I'm right."

"Let's hope so," Woolsey replied, as Sheppard stepped forward and carefully grabbed Rodney's arm.

"Come on," he said, and Rodney followed him without protest.

* * *

The rumors were soon flying all over the city. Not everything Teyla overheard people telling each other were true, though. Some said that Zelenka's skin color had started to turn into a greenish yellow nuance, and that he had grown gills on his face. Teyla knew for a fact that this was not the case. She had been to the infirmary several times since Radek so mysteriously had come back to life, and he looked no different than before.

Almost two days had passed since then. The Czech was still in a coma, but breathing on his own, and Keller and Becket were growing more optimistic all the time.

Teyla entered the mess hall and spotted the remainder of her team at their favorite table. "Gentlemen," she greeted as she approached them.

"Hi, there," John answered, kicking out a chair for her. "How's the doctor?"

"Better, according to Carson," she said and took her seat. "Yet he still seemed very ill to me."

Both John and Ronon nodded apprehensively, and the colonel put another grape in his mouth.

"He is quite feverish," Teyla continued. "Carson says it looks like he is going through all the stages of the disease once more, in reversed order. It is a slow process."

"So no side-effects so far?" John asked.

"Nothing visual," she answered. "But they won't know for sure until he wakes up."

"He's gonna wake up then?" Ronon asked.

"Carson thinks so. The brain activity is increasing."

"Good."

Teyla nodded. She had also been glad to hear that, though the unsettling feeling that the man might not be the same was still there in her stomach. She looked at John. "And how is Rodney?"

"Bored," he replied, eating another grape. "He's been stuck in that room for two days now. I don't think he really thought the IOA would have him confined to his quarters."

"I didn't think they would, either," Ronon said, turning in his chair and stretching his legs. "What's it good for?"

"He went against their direct order," John answered.

"He saved Zelenka's life."

"We do not know that for sure yet," Teyla said. "And neither do we know what kind of life that will be."

Ronon looked from her to Sheppard and back again. "Come on," he said, "don't have such an, what's the expression, holier-than-thou-attitude. He only did what we all secretly wanted to. He's willing to take the blame here."

"Then he will have to take it," John said calmly and shook his head. "They're gonna ship him back to Earth for sure this time."

Ronon picked a grape from John's plate and put in his mouth. "Maybe he figured it was worth it."

The others looked at him, but didn't answer.

* * *

Richard Woolsey had yet to receive word from the IOA on what to do with Dr. McKay. It was now four days since he had been ordered to confine the physicist to his quarters, but apparently the Agency was _still_ discussing the next course of action.

During these last four days he had been thinking a lot of what McKay had done, and if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't entirely sure whether he was angry with the man or pleased with him. No, he wasn't _pleased _with him. That would be too strong. But maybe he felt an ounce of admiration for the guy.

He was still pondering the question when there was a knock on his office doorframe, and he looked up to see Dr. Beckett standing there. "Ah, Doctor, come in," he said. "What can I do for you?"

"I was about to radio you," the Scot said. "But I know how nosy people can be around here, so I thought I'd better come and tell you in private."

"Tell me what?"

Beckett smiled a little. "Zelenka's awake."

Richard sat up a little straighter in his seat. "Oh? Is he…?"

"He came out of the coma late last night," Beckett continued. "Didn't say anything, just looked around the room a little before he went to sleep. He did respond to his name, though."

"That's good, I'll take it?"

Beckett nodded. "And then he woke again this morning. Groggy, but mostly aware. Asked me, very politely, for a glass of water."

That certainly sounded like the Zelenka Richard had come to know. "He seems normal to you?" he asked.

"Aye," Beckett smiled. "Perhaps it's a wee bit early to be certain, but I'd say he's the same, old Radek."

Richard nodded. "Does he know what happened to him? What we have done?"

The physician took a deep breath. "No, I haven't told him everything yet. He's still very weak. But he should be informed soon."

"I agree," Richard said, glancing back at his work on the computer screen.

Beckett didn't leave. Realizing that the man probably had more on his mind, Richard looked back up at him. The Scot met his eyes with an intense glare. "Mr. Woolsey, there's no need for keeping McKay confined to his quarters. The damage, if you choose to call it that, has already been done."

"I know, but the IOA has ordered me…," Richard began, but Beckett cut him short.

"With all due respect, sir, the IOA is not here. And they have failed to send us _any_ word in four days. Perhaps it's time for a leader to show some initiative himself."

Richard smiled a little at the physician. Deep inside he knew he had just been waiting for someone to tell him this. Somehow he needed to hear it from someone else. "You're right, Doctor," he said. "I'll let McKay out. He will not be allowed to work, though. Not until the IOA has made their decision about his future."

"Then maybe you can tell them to please hurry up," Beckett replied with a smile. "Don't let him hear it, but this city needs McKay."

Richard returned the smile. "I'll see what I can do," he promised.

TBC


	9. Chapter 9

**Part 9**

Radek was finally coherent enough to make sense of his surroundings. He was in the infirmary, on Atlantis, in the Pegasus galaxy, feeling woozy and numb, like he'd been sleeping for too long. Twelve days, Carson had told him. It was twelve days since he'd fallen ill, and he'd been unconscious and delirious most of the time since.

Now he was lying quietly in bed, listening to Dr. Biro's excited voice. She was the doctor on duty, and somehow she found his predicament quite fascinating. "This is _so_ very interesting," she twittered. "I mean, who has _ever_ heard of a bacteria behaving this way before? I'm so glad we get to study it! Yes, that's right, it _was _the nest, by the way. The team that went back to the planet to investigate, found it, and now we have _colonies _of it to put under the microscope. Safely locked away, of course." She laughed nervously. "We wouldn't want those little buggers out on the loose, now would we? That was some nasty disease! Then of course, we know how to cure it now."

Yes, they did. Radek knew that. Wraith stem cells treatment. Carson had told him that too, carefully choosing each word not to scare him. Radek had just listened to him, blinking lethargically up at the physician, trying hard to grasp the fact that he allegedly had Wraith cells in his body now.

Rodney had done it, he'd been told. Rodney had given him the Wraith cells to replace the ones the bacteria had killed. He had not been allowed to, but he'd done it anyway, and Radek could only guess why. Carson had assured him that there was no evidence of any side-effects, and that it was not very likely there'd be any either. Still, as soon as he'd left, Radek had turned his hand around and studied his palm for a moment. He'd found no slits.

"This is certainly an interesting case," Dr. Biro droned on. "I hear Drs. Keller and Beckett are writing a paper on it. Oh, and they've called it Zelenka's Disease, how about that?"

_Great, _Radek thought. _They finally name something after me, and it's a __disease_. But he just smiled weakly up at her, wondering if the woman was _ever _going to shut up. He was thirsty, and desperately waiting for a pause in her endless string of words so that he could ask her for some water. The glass was on his nightstand and he couldn't reach it. And even if he could, he would not have been able to hold it. The raging fever had left him too weak to even move, and in need of help to perform even the simplest task.

Like eating. Radek grimaced at the thought. Sweet as they were, having a nurse feed you Jell-O felt a little awkward at best. Yet that was nothing compared to the things they put him through whenever he had to… go. He didn't even want to think about it.

He was relieved when Carson suddenly appeared and politely, but firmly nudged Dr. Biro on her way. Then he rolled his eyes to Radek, and leaned in and whispered, "She's quite intense, I know."

Radek smiled at him. "Could I have some water, please?" he finally got to ask.

"Sure," Carson smiled, and picked up the glass and bent the straw to Radek's lips. "You seem to be feeling a little better today," he added while Radek drank.

Radek nodded. That was probably right.

The head nurse was suddenly at his side, pinching him with a needle to take blood. It hurt a little and he gave her a disapproving look that she either didn't see or chose to ignore. She just proceeded with taking his temperature. "38.76 Celsius," she said.

"Well, that's a better number," Carson smiled and patted Radek's hand, while the head nurse changed the IV bag. "Thank you, Marie," Carson said as she left, and then he turned back to Radek. "You up for a few visitors?"

He must have looked a little confused, because Carson laughed a little. "They've been bugging me to let them in all day."

Radek nodded. "Okay."

The next minute Colonel Sheppard, Teyla and Ronon surrounded his bed. Teyla gave him a warm smile and gently grasped his hand. "Hello, how are you feeling?" she asked.

"Better, thank you," he said and glanced at all three of them. Ronon stood by his feet, grinning. Sheppard was on his right, also smiling, but looking a little more reserved. It was the look of a military leader on the watch for any sudden danger. Radek knew why. He had already seen the SO stationed at the door.

"So," Sheppard slowly began. Apparently he was the one who had to ask the awkward question. "You feel any _different_?"

"No," Radek replied, carefully watching the colonel. "Just tired. Weak. A little nauseous."

Sheppard made a teasing grimace. "No sudden hunger for human life?"

Radek frowned. "No."

"Stop teasing him," Carson said. "He's not going to change in any way. If he were, he would have done so by now." He looked at Radek and patted his shoulder. "There are no changes to the brain, except that the previous infected areas actually are a little healthier than before. All the scans and tests so far confirm it."

"So Rodney was right after all," Ronon said.

"Aye," Carson replied with a little sigh.

Radek frowned again. "Rodney's in trouble, right?"

"The IOA is still deciding," Sheppard said. "You know how they're like, they're taking their time. He's out of confinement now, but not allowed to work, which of course makes him a little grumpy."

Radek nodded pensively.

Teyla smiled reassuringly. "Mr. Woolsey will put in a good word for him."

"He saved my life."

"I am sure they take that into consideration."

"They better," Ronon said and clapped both his hands to Radek's mattress. "It's good to have you back, Doc."

Teyla took Radek's hand again. "We will let you rest now," she smiled, and started to walk away. He held onto her hand. His grip wasn't very strong, but she got the picture and stopped and looked back towards him.

"Thank you," he said. He didn't really know why he said it, but something in the back of his head told him she had played some pivotal part in all this.

She looked a little surprised at first, but then she smiled again and squeezed his hand a little. "You're welcome."

* * *

Richard was glad that Mr. Coolidge was a galaxy away. It was a lot easier to look the man straight in the eyes when it was only through a screen.

"The rules are there for a reason, Mr. Woolsey," Coolidge said. "If people can't abide by them, they simply don't belong with this expedition."

"Actually, I think it's the other way around," Richard said, as he kept his gaze sternly at his superior, searching the face for any kind of reaction. "It's people who blindly follow rules that don't belong with this expedition."

Coolidge looked at him as if he had completely lost his mind. "What the hell are you saying?"

Richard took a deep breath and gathered the strength to keep staring the IOA chairman in the eye. "I have been the leader of Atlantis for about eight months now, and I am just beginning to understand how things work around here. Life here on this base is not easy. It's uncertain at best, too uncertain to be black and white. More often than not we find ourselves in situations where we have to choose whether to follow the rules or save lives. This was one such case."

"That's no excuse!" Coolidge interrupted. "People can't just stop following orders as soon as they step through the Stargate."

"I know, and mostly they do follow them. But these people are explorers, they are survivors, and they do occasionally improvise. Because they have to." Coolidge looked like he was about to interrupt once more, so Richard raised his voice and continued, "These are extraordinary people, Mr. Coolidge. They are incredibly loyal to each other. More so than they are loyal to the rules. For a man on the outside, this way of life can be hard to grasp, believe me, I understand. I used to be that man. The man who followed the rules and not his heart."

"Well, that certainly sounds very romantic, Dick," Coolidge barked sarcastically, suddenly on first-name terms. "But it doesn't matter _why _Dr. McKay did what he did. What matters is that he could have put his colleagues in serious danger! He had _no idea _what the outcome of his little experiment would be, no matter what he claims!"

"I agree it was reckless," Richard said. "And he has been reprimanded. But at end of the day he also saved a man's life. Dr. Zelenka is on a steady road to recovery. No harm done."

"So just because the treatment was a success, he should not be punished?"

"Oh, by all means, you can punish Dr. McKay. You can punish _me _if you find it prudent. But my point is, it will _not _change the way things work around here. No matter what you do, no matter who you send." He paused a little before he added, "If Atlantis can change me, she can change anyone."

"She's certainly changed you, alright," Coolidge said.

For a moment the two men remained quiet, silently studying one another. Eventually Richard said, "Whatever your decision will be, I must ask you to make one soon. I believe he's waited long enough."

* * *

Rodney stood in the infirmary doorway, silently watching the bed situated closest to him. It was late at night and Zelenka was fast asleep, curled up on his side. He hadn't moved for as long as Rodney had been there, which was closer to an hour now. The room was incredibly quiet. All that could be heard was the reassuring beeping from the heart monitor, the Czech's deep and steady breathing and the occasional shuffle of a nurse moving about the room. The silence felt good, Rodney realized. He was very seldom as relaxed as this.

He heard footsteps to his right and looked up to see Woolsey approaching him. "I thought I might find you here," the expedition leader said in a whispering voice.

Rodney wondered what Woolsey meant by that. He hadn't been anywhere _near_ the infirmary since he'd been let out of his confinement the day before. But he just nodded and looked back at Zelenka.

Woolsey followed his gaze. "He gets under your skin, doesn't he?" he asked, clearly not expecting an answer. "Most of the time you don't even realize how much you care."

Rodney didn't reply, but thought to himself, _I guess not_.

Woolsey put on a serious face and met his eyes again. "The IOA has allowed you to go back to your daily business," he said. "They are still discussing whether you'll receive any further punishment, but they see no need to keep you away from your work."

"I suppose I have you to thank for that," Rodney said.

Woolsey avoided answering the question directly. "Well, seeing as the only man who could possibly replace you was the very same man you saved, it was the most logical choice."

"What are you talking about? Nobody can replace me," Rodney said, but he didn't sound as arrogant as usual.

Woolsey smiled a little, but then his face became serious again. "You took a chance," he said. "It was mere luck that the treatment worked."

Yes, he had taken a chance, Rodney silently agreed as he shifted his gaze back to Zelenka. Even though he had said so to the others, he had never been sure whether the Wraith cells would work as intended or not. Out loud all he said was, "Radek would have wanted me to take it."

"You sound quite confident about that."

"Zelenka's a scientist like me," Rodney said without taking his eyes away from the man in the bed. "Our very work consists of taking chances. That's how we progress."

"Hm," was all Woolsey said, but seemed to contemplate Rodney's reply for a minute. "Well, in the end I guess it turned out to be worth it," he eventually said, nodding towards Zelenka's bed.

Rodney smiled a little, but didn't answer. Woolsey clapped a hand to his shoulder. "You're back on duty tomorrow. Good night."

He left, leaving Rodney to watch Zelenka alone. _Maybe I should turn in? _he thought. There would be a lot of work waiting in the morning. Seeing as most of the people in his department were imbeciles, and with both himself and Radek incapacitated, it had been piling up for the last six days. _Or maybe I should get started right away…?_

He did neither. Instead he went inside the infirmary and silently sat down on the plastic chair beside the bed. He might as well just sit there in the comfortable silence for a while. The night nurse had told him that Zelenka probably wouldn't wake up until morning. He'd be gone by then of course, but right now – there was no rush.

The End

* * *

_A/N: That's it, people. My very first fan fiction and one of the most intense writing experiences of my life :-) Thanks for the lovely reviews._


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